


Rhythm of the Heart

by DanaFanel



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Advisers lay the smack down on perverts, Andrastians, Aspergers, Bad Jokes, Bad Puns, Blood, Cannon Violence, Children getting injured, Confessions of Addictive substance abuse, Cullen whoops some tush, Discussions about Depression, Druffalo mucus, Elfroot fixes many things, F/F, F/M, Fade Dreams, Hints of smuty modern fiction, Insults thrown at OC, Intentional violence against OC by Adviser (Chapter 11), Joint manipulation, Jumpscares!, Leliana is a clothing ho, Leliana's crew is suspicious, Let's embarrass everyone by talking about boobs, M/M, Massaging to relief headaches, Medieval culture exchange, Missing of family, Modern Girl in Thedas, Modern technology use in Medieval era, Molestation of an unconscious person, Much teasing of the Commander, Multi, No romantic past for OC, Non-Consensual, OC gets some ouchies, OC has Depression, OC has anxiety, OC has crushes, OC is NOT a bad ass, OC is big Whiny baby, OC is teacher and substitute mom, OC lightens moods, OC likes mages, OC may have a need to be clean, Oc has voice kink, Oc of undetermined sexual nature, Pinpricks, Plans for inventing, Playful teasing, Rare Solas humor, Solas as Fen'Harel unknown to OC, Sooth-Sayer, Swearing, Temper flare ups, The Spies are watching, Thinking about masturbation (Me-Time), Threats of Violence, Very affectionate OC, Wrassling (Wrestling), add, alcohol consumption, meltdowns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2019-08-29 00:16:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 27
Words: 139,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16733379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanaFanel/pseuds/DanaFanel
Summary: Modern Girl falls into Thedas (yawn). Except this one doesn't know who Solas truly is, has no bad ass training to make herself useful, and may or may not have very poor humor. She still tries to find ways of helping while also weirding out nearly everyone.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This damn thing has been stuck in my head for ages. It has been interfering with my Fallout seires, so I am hoping that starting to publish it will help them both.
> 
> Please visit Ms. HeldPeach and her works. She is my bestie buddy for fanfic writing and has been very patient in me shoving my grammar and spelling horrendousness at her.

_It had truly been like any other day_.

 

Alarm rings, cats whine for their breakfast, freshen up the face and body, pulled out some nice business-cas outfit, and head to work. Teach until 4, sit and ‘work’ in the office until 6 and head home for a nice quiet Thursday evening. I had long since made my schedule to give myself Fridays off, so I planned on having a nice apple-tini when I got home. Mail left in the mailbox is collected and brought into the studio apartment. The babies come up to me for their lovings as I set my blue-green purse and mail down in the kitchen.

 

I head to my sectioned off bedroom, strip down fast, and get into some old yet very comfy dark-red sweatpants and old teal long-sleeve shirt, keeping my bra and undies on just in case one of the fam calls and wants to go to dinner. Heading back into my kitchen corner, I grin at my frig’s door. My nephews (7 year old Tristian and 1 year old Dennis) and my new niece (tiny little poodle-haired Fiona), who’s still too far away to go see, are looking at me from their pictures. I kiss my fingertips and tap each of them on their heads. Opening the door, I pull out my pre-tini mix and just pour some of it into a tumbler instead of a proper glass. Grabbing some cheese slices and crackers, I take them over to my living room table. I have to watch Boomy, my puffball of an orange tabby, as I go back to get my purse and mail; little brat is too crafty for his own good. Min-Ming (the half flame-point Siamese) bats at my purse’s strap as I settle myself in for a quiet evening. Blanket over lap, and Boomy over that with Min-Ming taking the head space behind me, I flip through the envelopes. Receipts of bills paid; what the hell was the point of signing up for digital bill pay if they just sent you paper receipts? I toss three of the letters back on to the table. Oh, decent sale going to be going on at the mall in two weeks. Get dad’s overdue birthday present.

 

Last, but not least, was a nice little box. I grin as I reach into my giant purse to pull my keys out. A quick stab and a few rips and I got the palm sized box open to relieve my Dragon Age keepsake bracelet. A squeal passes behind my lips as I look at the different charms. A little rose for Alistair, an Andraste’s Grace for Leilana, a mini dagger for Zevran, and the ‘unsquishable dove’ for Shale make up the Origins charms. A cat and wolf growling at each other make up Anders and Fenris while a quill/book combo and ship are for Varric and Isabela. Lastly, a cute lion for Cullen, a ‘dragon’s tooth’ for Bull, a set of three staffs for my mage trio-since I could not pick just one- and a warden shield for Blackwall and Cassie. I still needed to think up a good one for my sweetie Cole and Josie, but that was next paycheck.

 

In the center was the elven orb Corypheus uses to tear a hole in the sky of Thedas. I sigh as I flick it; it’s double the size of the other charms. It catches the overhead light, casting a gentle green shadow on my far wall, which Min-Ming starts chirping at. I reached behind my head and fluff up her back, grinning at the long me-o-o-o-w she does as I play with my charms. Ugh, I _really_ need to finish Inquisition. I know my save is right before the final show down. Like seriously, FLEMETH is Mythal? EEEE! I remember just stepping up to the war table when my power went off and I haven’t had time to get on since. Completing the Jaws of Hakkon and the Deep Roads DLCs beforehand had really boosted my main save file. I was proud of myself for this series; I have only looked up one spoiler and that had been about the heart wrenching ending for Bull if you gave up the Chargers. Who was the heartless bastard that would let Bull sacrifice his boys, anyway?!!

 

 I lean back, squishing my baby girl, as I think on my weekend schedule. Exhausted Fridays mean that I sleep till 10, do my last bits of paperwork over the teachers’ website and take a nap at noon. Wake back up in the evening to catch up on a week’s worth of episodes. Saturday this time was go see the little guys’ day with dad and Sunday would be dinner with mom. That should leave me with plenty of time to play.

 

I secure the charm band to my left wrist and give it a shake, watching the green glow hit the wall again. Both babies are whining at it now as I took a long pull of my tini mix and munched down a cracker. I pull out my cell phone to check the time. 7:24 pm and no missed calls or texts from the family. Perfect!

 

I flip on the sound system and tune into the 25 days of Christmas music station. Only two weeks left… oh, _that’s_ why there’s a sale at the mall. Kind of easy to forget the dates when you are mad-scrambling through life. I snuggle deeper in to couch and stretch hard. Blah, only 32 years old and I already felt like an old lady. Not an old crazy cat lady yet; still think you need more than two to get to that stage.

 

But seriously, who is ready for bed at 7:30 at night?

 

I don’t know when I completely zone out, but I come out of my doze as the lights snap off. Oh sweet mother of mercy, _again_? I know my section of town is crap, but who the hell keeps killing the power? Was it storming again? Stupid Southern storms.

 

 _Then I heard it_.

 

It’s static at first; that noise back in the day when it was white static on the TV. I looked back over to my radio. Its digital clock was still on? and fluttering between different numbers. Boomy and Min-Ming had gone running for the bedroom when the lights turned off and one of them was doing their ‘I’m scared’ yeow. I make gentle kissy noises as I get up, grabbing my phone for a light, and walk over to the radio. Turning on the flashlight app, I unplug the radio from the speakers. The noise doesn’t stop, so I reach behind the chest they stood on and unplug the whole surge-protector connection. It still won’t stop; hell, the lights were fluttering even faster now. I flip the radio over, looking for a battery compartment, but it was just a plug-in radio.

 

As I switch hands, phone into my right and radio to my left, I feel my wrist start to shake. I try to get the radio back onto the chest, but the shaking is so violent that it tumbles to the floor. It’s then that I notice my elven orb charm _glowing_ green. The ever-loving hell? I did _not_ buy a glowing charm.

 

“… help… _Ma halani…_ SAVE US… The Divine is…”

 

_WHY THE FUCK IS MY RADIO TALKING?!_

 

Shit, my wrist is shaking harder; it feels like my bones are vibrating. I head back to the couch, shining my light down into my purse. Please tell me I still have my big ass multi-tool in here. I’ll cut the damn charm off! I don’t care that it cost me 55 bu-

 

A near ear-bursting woosh sounds throughout my apartment as the charm on my wrist explodes. I throw my right arm around my purse and use it to cover my head, worried about glass pieces. It sounds like there is a fucking train in my room! As I peek out of the corner of my left eye, I see the shards of the orb…hovering. HOW THE FUCK DID MY LIFE TURN INTO GHOSTBUSTERS?!! The sound was soon joined by what felt like tornado force winds that began to pull on me. Desperate, I push my hand through the purse strap and then throw both hands over the back of my couch.

 

 _Of course, it didn’t help_.

 

Keeping a hold of my couch, I looked back at the floating pieces, watching them swirl into a vortex of green. I felt the very air from my lungs being pulled away, my ponytail was being used to yank my head back hard. Fuck I was going to snap my ne-

 

A green, humanoid figure was looking at me through the vortex, and- as I watch in horror- reached its long wispy hand through the swirling light and grabbed me by the ankle. I kick at the legless creature with my other foot, throwing my fat ass and hips into the kick. The pull, of the whirling pieces and the ghost, was getting harder. My snacks, mail, fuck even my unplugged speakers and radio was pulled in. I swore I heard my babies yeowing even through the rest of the noise.

 

_Then, I heard him._

 

Well, I am pretty sure it’s a him. All I can _see_ was a new shadowed figure behind the ghost. It’s in a huge dog shape, I guess about as big as a 3-story building, with three pairs of glowing red eyes. He’s just breathing slowly, but on each exhale, he growls/rumbles.

 

And with one word ‘ ** _COME_** ’ I am yanked from my home and into the void.

 

Where I quickly land flat on my back and ass on some very hard and very cold rocks. I gasp air back into my chest, unable to decide if I need to keep breathing or try to scream with the air I did have. I was looking up at the chest and belly of the giant wolf. Oh, and he was definitely a he.

 

Staring up, I realize that the wolf wasn’t solid. Parts of his body faded in and out as he and the ghost turn to look (in the wolf’s case look _down)_ at me. The ghost-wait, that’s a wraith! From the Inquisition’s Fade! Wait, who the hell cares _when it’s coming after me!!_ I still can’t breathe right as I try to crab snuffle backwards away from the thing. It’s exactly as I remember it from the game; missing its lower body, it looks like it’s made of green water.

 

I kick at the ground, hoping to dislodge a stone or something to kick at it, but it still advances. Kicking at the ground did cause puffs of dust to come up and some part of my ADD brain finally took better note of my surroundings _while_ watching the wraith. It smells like what a sulfur pit might if you added in 300 portapotties. The swirling green whirlpool that brought me here was closing above the wolf’s nose and the pieces of the charm were getting closer together. Off behind the wolf were other wraiths and I’m pretty sure that’s a Pride Demon off to the left.

 

Panicked, and crazy let’s be honest, I did another stupid thing in my _long_ list of stupid things; I yell at the wolf.

 

“HEY! Big, tall, and mangey! DO SOMETHING!” I mean between a ghost and 30-foot wolf, I am pretty sure who would win. Course, the mutt is just watching my little charm come back together. I get my feet up from under me, feeling my purse swing over my neck and shoulder, and continue walking backwards away from the wraith. I don’t remember anyone getting possessed by a wraith in the game, but hell no, was I risking it. “Oh Wolfieeeeee,” I call again; this time seeing the red eyes twitch at my higher pitch. God, I wish I could whistle. Argh, what was with that wolf and why was it making my ADD brain tickle when I’m _about to mother fuckin DIE?!_

 

Tick-tick…DING! I’m in the FADE with a Dragon Age wraith and a huge ass wolf.

 

 “HEY, DREAD WOLF!”

 

It was rather instant. The wolf’s head snaps to me, the whirling portal shut, and my orb charm came back together. Pressure builds around me as the Wolf’s aura/mana/ what-ev-er I still don’t care, flashes around him. The wraith stops its advance on me and in a blink is gone. Then Fen-Fen-Fenny turns his eyes on me completely… and advances on me himself.

 

I run. I’m 5’ 10” and damn near 360 pounds. He takes two _fucking_ steps and he’s standing over me again. I drop into a tornado drill position and, for the first time in _a while_ , I think the Lord’s Prayer. “DON’TEATMEDON’TEATME, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, MAKER, CREATERS, WHOEVER THE QUN PRAYS TO, DON’T EAT ME!!!”

 

It takes a bit to realize that I am _not_ being eaten, but a raspy rumble is coming from overhead. I peek up to see Fen’Harel’s upper lip pulled up and his chest vibrate. Fucker’s laughing?!

 

I stand up and walk out from under him, getting a few feet away from his towering muzzle and turn around to point my finger at him. “You don’t get to laugh, Mr. Dread Wolf elven god,” He stops and leans his muzzle down toward me. I can see my little charm hovering over his big wet nose. “I mean, this is one hell of a dream to be having, but none of my dreams get a chance to laugh at me.” I shove my fists onto my hips and tap my bare foot to the cold ground. I’m in full Ms. Fan mode, like I’m dealing with one of my troublemakers. “Now, you give me that charm, right now, and let me wake up.” I hold out my left hand, expecting it to fly to my bracelet. Would make enough sense with my other dreams.

 

The wolf’s teeth gleam down at me as he snarls, before belly flopping down. His form is moving in and out more; for a quick second his whole left ear disappears. “ ** _You are not asleep_** ” came a booming voice again, making me cover my ears. It’d be a rather nice voice if it wasn’t so friggen loud! He lays his big head on his paws and keeps all six eyes on me. “ ** _You know where you are?_** ”

 

“I’m dreaming about the Fade that’s a part of the Dragon Age Thedas lore. You are the Elven Trickster/Rebel God, Fen’Harel. I’m going to wake up in five minutes with apple-tini mix all over my blanket and my son having eaten my cheese.” I move closer to the muzzle and notice that my charm is moving towards me. Only it’s not the little round elven orb anymore. It’s square-ish… and still familiar looking. Fen’s nose moves up to bump the charm back up his head.

 

“ ** _I wish that could be so, da’len._** ”

 

I huff and stomp my foot hard; crap, my calf is trying to cramp. “Oy, I have you know, my dear elven sir, I’m long past the age to be called a child. Just because you are a giant, doesn’t,” I cut myself off as he moves his nose to be about 5 feet from me. Shiiiiit, is he huge.

 

“ ** _I am in need of help; it is misfortune that this piece fell to you. We have little time, so tell me; what do you know of the Inquisition?_** ” Fen’Harel watches me, though he keeps bumping the charm back up his head as it slides down. The rest of him flows in shadows when it wasn’t disappearing out of existence.

 

“Well, I was just getting ready to take Solas, Varric and Cassie to the final, I think, fight with Corypheus but my power went off and I haven’t gone back to play.” And bold as I ever am, I close the distance and use his muzzle to lean on. I tickle as he breathes in harshly, so I curve my body to more of the side of his nose.

 

 ** _“Ah, Solas… it will have to do._** ” I huff up a little; hey, no knocking my elf friend. I like him. The elven god let the small charm hover toward me and I reached up to take it. Yup, it was square now, and the fingerprint-like ridges were on only one side. It was more like two stones fused together. It glows again before snapping back onto my bracelet. “ ** _I am sorry, da’len, but I need another’s help to repair the damage done._** ” He nudges me and makes me turn to the side, just as a true elven orb pops into view. This one was just as broken as my little charm had been.

 

“Is that… Corypheus’ orb? How is it broken?” I question as I hold my hands out to it. As I do, my charm starts to glow again, and a new whirling mass opens, so I toss the bigger one away. “Nope, no more portals.” I reach over and wrap myself around the muzzle of the god, only to be nudged off again. “Can’t I pleaseeee wake up, your most rebel-ness?” A fang showed itself in a wolfie smirk as he stood up.

 

 ** _“Time is a strange magic, da’len. You may feel sick when you arrive.”_** And now the fucker is literally pushing me _with his nose_ toward the portal. I reach behind to try to grip on to some fur or something, but I can’t get any purchase. “ ** _You will not be far from Haven. You know who to seek out._** ”

 

“Go suck a shem’s dick, you overgrown-” and down face-first into a snowbank I went. I look behind me to see the wolfie still smirking, but as he starts to completely dissolve away, I feel a quick bit of pity. Is he sick? “Fen’Harel?”

 

“ ** _Help the Inquisition and stop the one who gave Corypheus the orb. Do not inform the others of the latter._** ” The red eyes shut and soon, the elven god was gone. The portal also snapped close, leaving me in nothing but my pjs, with bare feet and a purse. SHIT, is it cold.

 

I kneel up and pull my toeies up from the snow as I look around. Lots of trees, especially pine, were snapped or bent in one direction. I’m on some mountain it looks like and the howling of the freezing wind wasn’t helping. Damn my stupid vivid dreams. Wasn’t the first one and wouldn’t be the last. Collll-da, sweet Jesus of Mercy, is my chant right now as I gather myself up and continue looking. There is a distinct burnt smell in the air and I look behind myself, I see why. Yup, there’s the Breach in all of its demon spitting glory. From the distance and the lack of demons in my area, I really must be closer to Haven than the temple. I pull my inky-choco-black, waist-long hair free from its ponytail and scratch my head to think. I look at the trees once more. Most were bent, not snapped, which left me hoping I was a short, _short_ walk from the little village.

 

Whelp, let’s continue with this stupid ass dream, ai self? Fixing my hair back into place, I set off.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to enter Haven.

**_ Whelp, let’s continue with this stupid ass dream, ai self? Fixing my hair back into place, I set off. _ **

**__ **

~~~~~

 

 

I decide I am simply going in the direction the trees have bent toward, hopeful. The walk is _painful_ but at least there is enough snow around to not go slipping down the path. I can do that too, thanks to four years in Asia where backstreet snow removal was unheard of. As I round a corner, I catch sight of people moving around in dark brown furs and armor. I know this armor type; it’s pre-Breach closing the first time. So, the Herald of Andraste hasn’t made it up the mountain yet. I’m a shivering, teeth chattering mess as I move to them. “Please, help” I ask through my teeth. Several look over to me, eyes wide in surprise and a woman, from the height, grabs a nearby tarp and loops it over me. Another takes me by the arm and escorts me over to a fire. “I… I need to get…get to Haven.” Fuck, am I freezing.

 

“Where are you from, Serah?” The woman, an elf woman it turns out, who draped the tarp over me asked. Not sure how, but I’m able to sit and curl up into myself as I shiver.

 

“Not… here. I, shit cold, I woke up on the mountain. Haven is close by, right? I was told to get there,” by a giant, snickering elven god. Jerk. A few of the soldiers are hovering around me while others are… attending to… bodies.

 

It’s something I always ignored in game; hell, in life. My family, in general, live well into their 70 and 80s. So far, there had been no major deaths that I could attend. I am missing most of my aunts and uncles now, but most had died while I lived overseas. Looking over at the line of bodies… all I could think of was, “All those people…”

 

The soldiers all nodded and the ones that were taking care of the bodies went back to their prayers. My feelings overwhelmed me for a moment and I pushed my hands to my face, knowing my eyes would soon well up. This wasn’t like my normal dreams, even my vivid ones. I was always helping or saving people in mine. This was… so close to the story. “Please,” I looked at the elf woman again. Her eyes were deep forest green, but she was closer to Isabela the pirate in skin tone. Platinum blonde hair is done in a tight braid and wrapped in a high bun. Damn, she’s pretty, with those pulp lips and high cheek bones and…

 

And I want _OUT_ of this sexual orientation confusing dream!

 

“We will soon be reporting back to Haven, Serah. Warm yourself, we will escort you down.” She smiles and taps my knee as she stands up. She moves away to speak with the others, just as two soldiers arrive with a third person’s body between them. I look with them and see that the body is a richly red-haired human woman. From here, I can see her face is covered in bruises, though nothing else from this angle and with her clothes.

 

A crackle from the Tear overhead has everyone flinching, but I just catch a small jolt from the limp woman’s left hand. I spring to my feet, ignoring my tarp and run to the soldiers holding Trevelyan. Not my Trevelyan, that was quick to establish. “You need to get to Haven, to the Lady Seeker and Lady Nightingale.” I touch the closer, human male, soldier to try to impress on him how urgent it is.

 

Which is a big, fat, mistake as I am manhandled to the ground from behind.

 

Feeling my arm twisted behind my back is a new one. I am a passive by nature and have never gotten into even a high school fight. I don’t even try to hold in my cry as they pin me, and a sword is placed in front of my face. “Wait, wait! I’m not a threat! Look at me! I’m fat as hell with no combat skills.” I let myself relax, posing no resistance as more hands pin my feet and legs down.

 

“A spy then? No one has come off the mountain except you, and her,” a new human male is speaking to me, though it’s the elf woman from before with the sword.

 

“Right, I get it, really _really_ do. I’m suspicious as hell,” a few look at each other at my continued swearing. Right, me and my mouth. I clear my throat and adopt my ‘in the classroom’ self. “Sorry. Yes, I understand this looks strange, but I am not a danger to you. I… know things. I _see_ and have seen things. Call me a seer or hedge mage, but I am no threat.” I looked up and pleaded with my best puppy eyes.

 

“You don’t look Rivain,” and a few similar murmurs float around everyone. The soldiers that were holding Trevelyan still had her.

 

I look from the elf woman at my head to the future Inquisitor like a fish gasping for water. “Look, we are suspicious. _Take her to the Commander_ ,” I stress the request/ command, which gets the sword to twitch and nic my cheek. SHIT OW, MOTHER F- “Please, even if you don’t believe or trust me, I’m making sense, right? Take the mystery woman with the glowing hand to the leaders of the military company. Please just… get her out of the cold,” I plead softly, my eyes watching her as the fingers of her right hand have started to discolor. “That thing on her hand hurts her.”

 

I guess my voice and face are sincere enough as the leader of the group, the one who yanked my arm, orders the two back to Haven. I sigh in relief and let my chin rest on the stone path under me. The sword in front of me is pulled away and I’m _pulled_ up to my feet. My wrists are just as quickly secured with some thick, pitchy rope to my front and I’m shoved back toward the fire. “Easy; I’m not a threat. Just a freezing cold woman, in her sleep clothes, on a snowy mountain.” I try to ignore the way a few of them look over my clothes more critically after that. I feel a bit of ‘not-related-to-the-cold’ pink come to my cheeks and put my imprisoned hands over my bent knees.

 

After a few moments of shivering and huffing from the cold, I look over to the elf woman who has turned into my guard. “Can I have the tarp back... and maybe some socks? I’m Dana Fannon,” I offered with a quick down tilt of my chin. Best greeting I can do right now. She stares for a moment before reaching next to my seat and rolls the tarp back onto me. A second elf solider, a super lean bleach blonde male, walks over to what looks like a supply chest. Oh, now’s the time dream! Sexy blonde elf? Please be Zevrannnnn!

 

He’s not, which sucks, but he does bring over a number of rolled up socks and a few pairs of boots. Kinking my leg up, which is sore from the cold and just not flexible to begin with, I wiggle the socks on as they look at me. The male elf has to tie them up my calf with little ribbons. Right, no elastic. He’s still cute, though, with that light coffee color to his skin and those deep green… wait a minute.

 

 “Are you two related?” And quickly thinking it might be racist to ask, I added, “I ask, not because you are both elves, but because your eyes are the same color.” They had both looked to be getting upset until I clarified, and the woman smiled, just a tiny bit.

 

“He’s my brother. We are Vanril,” she rests her hand to her other shoulder, “And Feyriel,” the man did my earlier chin tilt. I blink for a second, trying to place that accent. It’s subtle.

 

“Marches?” I ask which gets me a scowl from Feyriel, and a quick blink of surprise from Vanril. “Maybe… outside or around Starkhaven? I love that accent,” I beam at them. Fey frowned more, standing up to leave, which makes me curl up. Great, even in DREAMS I’m offending people.

 

Vanril scoffs softly and pats my bond wrist. “Please excuse him, Serah. Yes, we were raised in Starkhaven, but we moved down to Ferelden after the Blight. Lots of human nobles needing workers to try to salvage the land.”

 

Right, the Blight, I think as I use my pulled-up knee to scratch my nose. Hm… “I’m sure King Alfred or Albert or…” I looked to her with an embarrassed grin as I tried to weed out just who is on the throne in this dream.

 

“King Al _istair_ ,” Vanril stretched the name gently. “And Queen Elissa.”

 

“Right, I’m sure King Alistair would be glad for anyone’s help. The Blight was horrible. Did you hear what happened to the Circle?” I pull a ‘let’s gossip’ tone and turn my body toward her more. She gives me a little upward tug of her lips at the corner; crap, I’m caught.

 

“I think it would be best to talk to the Commander before getting friendly with anyone, Serah,” she mentions calmly. Hm, so I’m on her ‘let’s wait and see’ list rather than ‘omg, kill this crazy woman list.’ Decent, decent, I nod, mostly to myself as I try looking through the boots with bond wrists. Only a couple pairs are anywhere close to my giant feet, but it’s damn hard trying to get them on. Tennis shoes and flats are my go-to shoes; hell, some of these would be thigh-highes if I didn’t have thick legs. With some wiggling, I am able to get into a pair of knee-high brown leather boots. I need Vanril’s help to unlace them enough to fit, but my feet are quickly warming up inside the fur lining.

 

“Commander,” came a number of voices around me and everyone moved to either a standing position or a salute. I bit my bottom lip to stop the squeal that’s trying to come out of me as I turn to look behind me.

 

_Hot. DAYMN!!!!_

 

My toes curl inside my boots as I watch him approach. Might be my height or a touch taller, but that red mantle didn’t really exaggerate his build. Thick neck lead to broad shoulders and gentle V-ing at the waist. Full gear on didn’t slow his pace either as he crossed the bridge. His skin was a shade redder than normally depicted on my gaming pc, likely from the cold. Dark stubble that framed that _gorgeous_ jaw line and around his moving mouth. His normally slicked back blonde hair was just a touch frayed by his ears. I couldn’t see them well from here, but those golden eyes were obviously scanning his troops. Ok dream; now just get us naked and in a corner somewhere.

 

Hell, I’ll even keep the ropes on.

 

He was giving out orders to the ‘in charge’ male humans who roughed me up. One of which pointed in my direction, and I was suddenly faced with something absolutely heart stopping in Dragon Age.

 

Cullen’s. Angry. Face.

 

That one face he makes when he gets interrupted from kissing the Inquisitor.

 

And I’m on the receiving end.

 

“Shit! Shitshitshit,” I’m up and backing away from this so _fast_. Vanril has her sword out in a flash as Cullen doubles his pace to get over to us. Fuck, his hand is on his sword! “Whoa! Heyheyhey hey HEY. Easy, Commander,” my bond hands raise up in an act of defense and to show I’m defenseless. “Easy,” _bump_. FUCK, I JUST BACKED MYSELF INTO A WALL! “Ok so… Cullen Stanton Rutherford of Honnleath, you take yo’r hands of’ that sword, rite now!” My voice switches from my neutral Standard English accent to my normally hidden ‘livin’ in the backwoods’ drawl. I pulled on my instincts as a teacher and aunt and used my best ‘don’t you try that shit with me’.

 

His eyes go wide and his steps stumble for just a moment before he pulls himself into a stand-still. We both wait a few moments before I decide to step _towards_ him, this time offering my hands to him. “Sorry, I know that was shocking; just _easy_.” I’m back to my neutral voice as I stress the ‘easy’ gently before I stand before him. “Ok, so, I am Dana Fannon. You are Commander Cullen, and I am a very suspicious woman.” I hold my hands at level for him to grab, which he does. “See? I offer myself freely. I don’t want to be _any_ trouble to you, Cullen. You are a nice guy, a smart and fair-minded ex-Templar. And now you are wondering why I act like I know you when you are more than sure you’ve never met me before.” Not like I need previous knowledge for that last bit. It’s written all over everyone else’s faces, and even a bit on his. “Not sure if the men mentioned it, but I _know_ you.” I hold his eyes hard and lean in very slowly to his ear. He is tense as hell and I can feel his strength as he squeezes down on my limbs. “I’ve known about you and your life since the fall of the Ferelden Circle.”

 

I have to hiss through gritting teeth, and my knees buckle as he clamps down even harder on my bond wrists. I have shit pain-tolerance to begin with, but fuck! Medieval men don’t play when it comes to their strength. I look up at his ashen face and blown eyes. Swallowing down a whimper, I gently shush him. “Shhhhhhhh, easy, Cullen. It’s alright. I’m not going to say anything. Easy doesit, hun,” I treat the scared man before me just like one of my extreme special case students. It seems effective as he blinks himself back to the present and notices what he’s doing. He winces just a touch, and I get to watch that sexy scar on his lip, before moving both of his arms to help me stand up.

 

“I’m… not sure I understand,” comes _that_ voice and _that_ accent, and oh, do I shiver. Oddly enough, I think it’s just a touch higher than in the game. Bad timing for my back-shivering voice obsession, but hell, it’s gentleman Cullen. He reaches around and adjusts my tarp, eyes rolling over me a few times, eyebrows pulled together. Suspicious without being hostile, if I’m reading right, which I might not. Damn, body language!

 

“I know things, Cullen. Seen them, some of them several times. But, if it’s ok, I think we should talk in private, or with Cassandra and Leliana.” I don’t want to say it out loud, but I hint with my eyes and posture that it’s a bad idea to air dirty laundry.

 

“I think that would be best. Mavrick,” a quick change into Commander mode and my toes curl in girly delight. A salt and pepper haired woman steps forward. “Keep an eye out for any other survivors. I will be escorting this woman to Haven.” Mavrick gives a quick thump of her fist to her breastplate as Cullen loops some extra rope around my wrists. He turns and leads me toward Haven.

 

Can I just say how the video game does a shit job of telling you the actual time it takes to get to Haven? I’m so glad I have boots on even though I’m still freezing.

 

Cullen’s quiet, though he does look at me once in a while. He’s confused and very worried, with just a tiny touch of curious. I try to smile and reassure him, but I doubt I’m very convincing in this case, based on his constant eye narrowing. Bits of wind blow around us until one finally takes my poor tarp. I hustle up to his side, which surprised him and puts him right back on edge. “Sorry Commander. The mountain finally won.” I tried to roll around him as we walked, using his body as a wind buffer, which had mixed results.

 

“What in…” Cullen half shouts with an angry voice before he stopped and gave me a more intense once over. “You… you look,” he started to stammer and ohhhh, was that just the tinniest touch of pink I see going up his checks?

 

I wanted to grin at him, but my teeth were starting to chatter again. I do my best to explain that, “These are my sleeping clothes. A rift opened in my home while I was relaxing and deposited me on the mountainside.” Not sure how much he understood with all the gasping, shivering and whining I do in that simple statement. He turns wide-eyed at that and works off his mantle and over tunic that was attached. Surprisingly, they fit decently over my head and down most of my chest, considering where my arms are. I do my best to beam at him and that little scar turns up a bit as he turns back around. Hm, better view of that long, thick neck; I nibble the inside of my lower lip as we keep walking. I try giving a ‘shy’ sniff to the red fur and grin again. I smell wood smoke, a very earthy plant (?) smell and some kind of-almost- Irish spring soap. That and man musk (I think; socially handicap means I’ve never gotten that close to men. Also because it seems I keep getting crushes on gay men. Sigh) It makes for a very comforting smell.

 

We around the last bend and I gasp to see Haven. It’s much busier than the game showed just on the way into the town. Canvas lines the walkway, carts of injured and dead are pulled by saggy old horses and mules. Chantry dressed people are moving everywhere… Oh!  


 

“Commander,” I close the distance again and lean next to his left ear. He jerks and tenses as I move myself so I can see him look at me from the corner of his eye and he slows enough for me to whisper. “Keep an eye and ear out for a Chantry member named Roderick,” His eye narrows at me and he stops walking altogether. “The Left and Right hands might know him. He’s not a physical threat, but he will turn into a royal pain in the collective hind ends of Haven.” Cullen now turns that gorgeous face towards me completely. I wince as part of the mad face comes back. “Ok, so maybe I’ll mention this again _after_ you believe me. Sound good?” He stares at me for a bit longer, more obvious in his distrust of me, but the traffic around us is picking up. He drops his chin just a touch and marches on. Grr, stupid rope burns.

 

We step on to the main stone bridge of Haven that will lead me down the nug filled pa-OMG LOOK AT THEM! They are easily medium dog sized and pink like cat’s paw pads. I can’t see their hand-paws from this distance, but there is no mistaking those ears. Oh, do nugs make good bacon?... Gah, shut up stupid brain.

 

I can see a small family-one adult and two babies- being fed by a small group of children along the bridge wall. My chest tightens as I see that all of the kids have wounds, one sweetheart has the whole left side of her face wrapped. I try weaving over to them, hissing as Cullen jerks hard on the lead. He glares in a rather uncomfortable manner before he follows my line of vision and his face softens a little. “They’ll be alright,” he speaks gently as he walks us closer to them. A few of the kids look up at us. A little red-haired boy grins up at Cullen and tries to stand up to salute him. His arm is in a sling and he’s missing a number of-hopefully- baby teeth, but his smile is so infectious. I beam right back, catching Cullen smile down at him too. “Aren’t you lot supposed to be with the sisters?” I have to bite my lip again; I can hear the almost perfect amount of scolding in his voice. The kids turn a bit more bashful, but the girl with the bandaged left side turns her bright blue eyes up at him.

 

“Please, ser. We promise to go back soon. The sisters won’t let us feed the nugs by the gates,” and lo and behold, the all-powerful puppy eyes. Times five even and all turned on the Commander. I try to keep a poker face, which is pitiful at the best of times, to see how Cullen fares under the eyes.

 

I see just a hint of mirth shine in his eyes as he scowls down on them. “2 minutes, then it’s back to the Chantry. I need to keep this path clear, understood?” The kids all nod at his command.

 

A tiny little brunette, with a heavily-patched, dirty white tunic, looks at me. Well, really s/he looks at my bond hands and the fact that Cullen’s holding my lead. They pop their thumb out of their mouth and ask, “Are you bad?” I still, and the others look closer at me now.

 

I kneel down, best I can, to the little one’s level and smile softly. “No, I’m not bad. But I am not from Haven or Ferelden. Commander Cullen has to make sure I’m not a spy. When he’s sure I’m not, maybe he’ll let me go so I can play with you. Is that ok?” The tiny one blushes and pulls their thumb back into their mouth, nodding a few times. The older kids narrow their eyes at me, but I just smile at them as I stand up. I move back into place behind Cullen and wait to be led. Cullen watches me from the corner of his eye for a second, I can’t tell if it’s a good watching or not, before we set off again.

 

Rounding the bend, I can see Harriett’s smithy. It’s not even fully put together yet; Jesus, how much time passes between The Breach opening and the Herald greeting the advisors? The wooden walls that will work as defenses are going up now, but I can see directly into the heart of the town. There are actually a lot more little cabins than what was depicted in game, but twice as many small tents as cabins. The training yard was actually huge with different sections already roped off. Supplies, armor and some weapons were being set up on the small hill in front of the smithy while a few of the brown armored soldiers were going through some of the motions. Tents lined around the lake’s shore line. There is a very thin layer of ice on the outer edges, but several stands are set up for water, I’m guessing.

 

“I need a blanket for this woman,” Cullen calls out, making me jump a bit out of my distracted skin. A few scouts, also guessing, run around to a box and pull out a blanket and pass it to the Commander.

 

“Ohhh, but I love the mantle. You wear a nice soap,” I complain lightly as the transfer happens. Cullen’s eyes pop for a second and a more obvious reddening of his cheeks happens. Oh lord, there goes my crush again. So sweet. And yet again, _even in my dreams_ , I’m a social time-bomb. Cullen cleared his throat as he took his uniform back and wrapped me in the blanket, pinning it together. “Seriously, Commander, thank you,” I smile gently. His face gives nothing away, but he nods once before pulling me onward.

 

Through the main gate and up the first set of stone stairs, I see 6 cabins and 4 tents inbetween them on my left. The center cabin is dark and open, with people snuffling in and out of it with supplies. Herald’s cabin _was_ a mess at the beginning of the game. Up more stairs, that may or may not have _slightly_ winded my hind end, we go right. Tent, big tent, tent, tavern… Jesus, Haven’s a lot bigger. We weave around the tavern, and I see Adan climbing up his steps with a thick bundle of elfroot in arm. Oh, there’s the big tent that Harriet’s in right outside the Chantry… ow, my neck hurts as I kink it up to look at the towering church. Lovely stain-glass windows are present just under the bell tower. I love stained glass; always gave me something to look at during mass. Mass is horrible to an 11-year-old with ADD, let me tell ya…

 

The doors are open wide with a number of Chantry members moving about. Long pews are being carried out by people to give the main room more space. I see Lady V’s desk area and random books everywhere. Cullen leads me into what will be Josie’s office and unleashes me.

 

“I need to get a few others. Can I trust you to continue to behave yourself? I am locking you in regardless,” He asks with what I am going to say is a hostile tone as he looped the rope and knotted it on to a clip on his belt.

 

“Not a problem, Commander,” I lift up both hands and try to do the chest salute I have been seeing. He nods briskly and heads back out through the door. The locking is rather loud, but I move to look around. There’s the table for the bits and pieces that come off demons and bandits. Tons of books and that chest that you can’t play with. I thunk it a couple of times, and it sounds empty… but I wanna play with itttt!... Good lord, I’m whiny.

 

I poke and prod at a few books and things. With some juggling, I get one book open and learn very quickly that written Common is nothing like written English. I sigh and gently plop it back into its space. I wiggle myself into Josie’s chair and relax, humming away my time like normal.

 

I was just on my third Disney song, _Be Our Guest_ for irony’s sake, when the door starts to unlock. I hop up and adjust my blanket as best I can before lowering my hands to the easy ‘I’m not giving the sexy Commander any trouble’ level. It’s not Cullen though. Vanril is standing next to a towering human male, both have one hand on their weapons.

 

“Hello again Vanril. Are you my escort?” See? Nice, pleasant, non-threatening teacher here. Vanril’s face softens some, but the big guy is not a happy camper as he yanks my arms forward and leashes me. “Oww, buddy, those are attached to me.”

 

“Quiet prisoner,” He snaps me along behind him and I’m stumbling to keep pace for the first few steps. I frown behind me to Vanril, but she just shakes her head and follows behind me. A now moved bookcase is the only clue of how I didn’t see the dungeon beforehand as we step through the door. I remember this part; down here is where the Herald is kept initially and there are tons of little codex things you can get if you are a Rogue.

 

Speaking of the Herald… GRRRRRRR!

 

Two of the ‘guards’ were kneeling down next to her. She was prone on her stomach and unconscious… and they were groping her! One is rubbing his hand up and down her legs while squeezing her ass with his free hand. The other has his under her shirt/armor and cupping her breasts!

 

“MOTHER FUCKERS! GET YOUR HANDS OFF THE HERALD OF ANDRASTE!!” I don’t tend to raise my voice, almost ever, so actually yelling hurts. I pull on my lead and try to charge at them. Course that goes as well as you’d expect. My leasher shoves me hard into a wall and I cry out as my shoulder makes contact. Fucking shit, OWW!

 

I collapse onto the floor, trying to tame my sniffling from the pain, opening my left eye to see as Vanril moves to the molesters. My captor shoves me against the wall again, though at least this time it’s my full back. “Vanril!” I called as the two molesters are trying to give her shit too. They don’t get physical with her, but I definitely heard a knife-ear comment.

 

“What in Andraste’s name is happening here?!” came a very angry, but thickly accented female voice from behind my captor. I would smile, knowing that Cassandra was going to lay the smack down on people, if I wasn’t trying to control my tears. Like I mentioned, shit pain tolerance. I squeeze my lids against the welling my eyes are doing and listen to a collection of boots hustling across the floor.

 

“What is this?” snapped Cullen as he passed me, and I hope he throws the book at the two perverts. Gentle hands touched my good shoulder, and I peek up to see the blurry outline of a red-haired woman. Nightingale is here; shit is going down. My arms go slack, which I take to mean that my captor has released me into Leliana’s potentially deadly hands. I sniffle more and try to use my blanket to rub the snot from my nose.

 

“They,” a cough to clear my rough throat, “They were touching her, Left Hand. Prisoner or not, that’s not right.” I feel my blanket being touched to my eyes until I can finally see her. Her red hair is neatly trimmed to just above her chin, while her cheekbone length side bangs give her face a nice shape. She’s as pale as me, aka ghost pale, with those ever-watchful blue-gray eyes. Her eyeliner is thick right now, and with the hood on, it gives her a bit of a haunted look. She’s not in her full armor, but more of a simple leather set. She nods at my remark, though she keeps her face rather blank, and looks over; I follow her eyes.

 

Cullen has the two soldiers by the front scruffs of their uniforms against the bars of a closed cell. Cassandra has pulled away my leasher and Vanril to the other side. Damn, Cassandra is built like a brick house. From here, I’m betting one of us is taller than the other by no more than half an inch. Her long black braid is undone from her crown and touches the low-middle of her back. She’s out of full armor too, but those purple pants are present, and she do have the boo-tah… I swear to dream God I’m not gay. Been curious before, but no. Her right side is all I can see, but from the gritted teeth, I’m betting she’s on the last of her fuse.

 

“Am I hearing this correctly?” Cullen shoves the men hard into the bars, making them clang.

 

I jerk at the loud noise and look to Leliana as she rubs my good arm. “Can you stand?” She asks me in the gentle French/Orlais accent, but her voice has a very light ‘smoker’s voice’ to it. Her face is still that potentially deadly neutral that makes me _really_ nervous of her as a character. I nod and work myself up. She drops her hand from my good side and faintly passes it over the top of my bad side. It’s now I notice that she’s around the 5’5”-5’6” mark against me.

 

“When I leave two men in charge of an unconscious woman, I should not have to remind them to keep their hands to themselves!” Cullen is livid and even though Leliana is poking at what I’m sure would be a giant bruise, I smile. That’s Cullen for you, a damn good man-FUCKOWWWW.

 

 I whine and try to duck my shoulder out from Leliana’s grip. She gives a small coy ‘comfort’ smile. “It is alright, we will get you some salve once we have figured-”

 

I flinch and completely shut my eyes as Cullen slams his fist into the cheek of the one who had his hands on the Herald’s breasts. I hear the man hit the floor. I try to move away, but Nightingale shushes me calmly and holds me in place. Leather covered flesh hitting flesh and bone sounds… really different in this dream. “You are not used to being around conflict, are you?” Leliana sounds likes she’s asking air rather than directing it at me. I have no doubts that she is logging all my faces and twitches away in her mental files. Of course not, I avoid all forms of aggression and violence unless it’s a damn video game. Stupid dream. God, I hope I’m not making a ‘well, duh woman’ face at her. Wear my heart on my sleeve translates to wear it everywhere for me.

 

“Get out of my sight and _stay_ out of my sight,” Cullen commands, and I peek my eye open just enough to see the two men run off. “Martin, Vanril,” Both of them stepped forward around Cassandra, who was now only facing Cullen, and chest thumped their salute. “Our _other_ captive?” Cullen stares around them to me. I lean my face into my blanket one more time, hoping I look presentable. Nightingale’s upper lip twitches and I wonder what she is thinking as I step forward.

 

“Ser, the captive was co-operating with us until she saw the two men forcing themselves on the other captive. She reacted, attempting to free herself to address them. Martin detained her again while I confronted the men.” Vanril reported in a crisp tone. Cullen looked at Martin, who nodded his confirmation, before nodding himself.

 

“Both of you stand guard up at the entrance to the rest of the Chantry. Let Lt. Cloche-Sec know of _those_ two first, then continue guarding. Dismissed.” Cullen calmly ordered, watching as both thumped their breastplates again as the left.

 

So here I am with a still peeved looking Commander Cullen, a tense and skeptical looking Seeker Cassandra, and the very deadly bard and Spymaster Leliana.

 

Can you say, ‘Well, she’s screwed’?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In terms of what is or is not real in this story: Names are generally not real, except my first name. Ages of family members are real at the time I started writing this story. Physical descriptions are real except for the kitties. The job was real, and I am a licensed teacher.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Advisers are suspcious. Help!
> 
>  
> 
> PS. Be sure to read the * and ** pieces when they come up in story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this a touch early cause OMFG THAT DA4 TEASE LAST NIGHT. EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!! 
> 
> #TheDreadWolfRises
> 
> GO NOW!
> 
> I even tweeted HeldPeach's hand 'tattoo' on the tag. EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE * frantic fangirl spasms*

**_ Can you say, ‘Well, she’s screwed’? _ **

**__ **

 

“Well,” oh, lovely! I can feel my nervous rambling already trying to take over. “I was trying to be good, Commander.” I squirm under his and Cassie’s judging gaze, knees knocking together as I twist my fingers. I look over as Leliana gives a very mild amused sound from her nose.

 

“From Cullen’s description, it seems you have been doing well.” Cassandra’s voice is rather skeptical and even more accented than I’m used to, though not by much. Luckily, I’ve gotten decent at listening through accents. Last time I heard that much disdain from her, though, was over Varric.

 

“The only times you have pulled on your bounds were when you were worried about another’s well-being,” the bard looked at me with a neutral-no screw it, I’m going to call it her ‘I’m watching you’- expression. “The children on the bridge and our other captive. And yet, you are not one for conflict.” The last part sounded open-ended, like I was going to disagree.

 

“Yes, I,” clear throat and my eyes shift. I use one of my coping techniques and focus on their belt lines while flashing my eyes up to their faces. Keeps me comfortable with a group of new people and makes sure they know I’m addressing them. “I saw the kids, all bandage up. It’s my nature to take care of kids; I’m a teacher by trade. Then now with those two… Course, hide-sight is 20/20; what the hell could I actually have done if I had put myself in their way?”

 

“It would _seem_ more telling of you, that your instinct was to do something, even if you could not,” spoke Cassandra as she watched me. I kept my eyes on hers for an extra few seconds. Her hazel eyes are hard, but her jaw isn’t as tight as before. Also, I’m the taller one by less than half an inch. Yeah me.

 

“Yeah, well, guess we both know something about being brash, right?” I hiss and take a step back as she stiffens and _glares_ at me for the remark. “Wait, forget I said-”

 

“So you _do_ seem to know some things about us,” Cassandra’s voice made it very obvious that she did not like this fact, and from the way she stayed ready to tackle me gave me the impression she didn’t believe it really. I stare down at my boots, fighting against hyperventilating from fear. Where is a corner when I need one?

 

“Yes, I know a number of things about you three, Josie, and the Inquisition, once you and Leliana officially start it,” I peek up and quickly look down again. All three are watching me more and more intensely. “Can I sit?” Distract, distract!

 

“You seem very uncomfortable, yet you are easy to speak to and wish to protect people. What is wrong?” Damn you Spymaster. There is a pause between her comment and then Cullen’s boots move out of my floor view, and I hear the scraping of chair legs.

 

“Well, one, you three are really damn good at your jobs of watching and judging people. And despite everything I know, I haven’t met any of you before. You’re probably going to be pretty upset with _what_ I know,” I’m tight as a bow sting as I catch Cullen’s legs circling behind me and a small stool is placed behind me. “Also, not sure if there is a term for it in Thedas, but where I’m from, I was diagnosed with Asperger’s. It means that social situations, meeting new people, especially if those people are focused _on_ me, makes me _really_ uncomfortable. I _like_ people, I’m just really not good with them. It means a few other things, but please, just know I can say some really stupid stuff. Like commenting on the Commander’s nice soap; probably stupid.” Probably stupid to also bring it back up.

 

A small clearing of a throat told me that, yes, it was stupid to bring it back up. I don’t think I want to see Cullen’s face at the moment. I turn and sit myself in the stool, hunching in on myself. See, small harmless teacher am I. No threat here.

 

“Is there something we can do to make you more comfortable to speak with us?” asked Cullen from my right side. I peek up at him for half a second and back down. Oh, lord! I do not like that face. It’s like ‘study an insect under a lens.’

 

“Can I have my hands? I know it sounds weird, but I talk with my hands when I explain things. You _really_ don’t have to worry about me causing you three trouble.” I look up and I’m able to hold his eyes easier than I can Cassie or Leliana’s. His eyes are so pretty and a bit easier for me to read when I try. He looks to the other ladies and I can see the barest of nods from Leliana before I offer up my wrists to his level. I jump a bit at the sound of his belt knife clearing its sheath, but it cuts through the center of the rope like it’s going through butter. “Damn, those are sharp,” I muse. Oh my god, my wrists are so rope burned! A tingling starts to move to my fingers and I shake them out, flexing my fingers back and forth. Wait, how do I know what rope burn feels like in this dream?

 

“You also jump at sounds,” Leliana mused softly.

 

 I feel my forehead wrinkle and my nose scrunched up some as I looked at her, my left hand touching my ear. “Highly audio sensitive. Not to mention hearing a knife clearing a sheath probably means someone is getting stabbed.” I look over at her, and quickly away. Shit, she makes me nervous as hell. “Like I said, I’m very non-aggressive.” I open my hands and tap on my chest as a gesture of ‘see?’

 

“Let us start from the beginning. You seem to know us, but we do not know you,” Cassie, ever the voice of reason. I grin up at her briefly, wincing internal at her glare for my friendly nature, before focusing back on my hands, rubbing more feeling back into them.

 

 “I am Dana Fannon. Dana, Ms. Fannon and Ms. Fan are my usual names. Teacher by trade, mom to two cats. That’s about it,” Not that any of that matters in the long term of a dream. Yes, even with all the pain, scares and what not, I _will_ not believe that this _isn’t_ a dream. “As for what I know… I know Varric is here somewhere,” I sing up on the last part of the comment, winking at Cassandra. Her eyes widen but her snarl face gets worse. “The other stuff would be done better if I could speak to you each one by one… also want to talk to Varric. Love that dwarf,” I can’t pull jokes off as fast as him. I have sassy moments, but Varric is king. I lean my neck both ways to crack it before looking at the three. “Cassandra first; I can prove myself to her in three words, I think.” I take a deep breath and force myself to keep her eyes. It’ll become easier the longer this goes on. I can keep almost constant eye contact with my co-workers and students; friends and family are the easiest.

 

Cassandra makes a disgusted huff, looking angrier and angrier at my attempts to ease tensions. Jesus, woman, _breath!_ “Very well. Leliana, would you please seek out the dwarf and bring him here? I will speak with Fannon first. Can you prove your identity to Leliana and Cullen as easily?” Cue more skeptical Cassandra. I _want_ my cornerrrrrr.

 

I look over to Leliana, cocking my head to the right and thinking about it. “Not as easily, but I think I can still prove myself. Cullen... that’s going to be uncomfortable.” I give my best ‘sorry, it’s going to suck’ face in his direction.

 

The three start looking between each other, doing the ‘mental link up eye talking’ that others seem to be good at. I watch my hands; gives them some privacy to decide what to do with me. I start humming again to take my edge off, flinching only a little as Cullen and Leliana march off. I look behind me as they passed down the hall and turn into the stairs. I hold up my finger to Cas for her to wait until I’m sure I hear the door close.

 

“Well?” Cas crosses her arms and tries to keep a ‘let’s hear this crap’ face. I feel my lips pull up in my mischievous smirk. (Had to have my friend point this face out to me. Apparently, I do it a lot.)

 

“ _Swords. And. Shields.”_ Is all I have to say. She gasps, eyes wide and her right hand flies up to her mouth. I cup my own mouth to muffle my giggles, though I do give one really loud nose snort. She _obviously_ doesn’t appreciate that laughter as she starts pacing the floor as I come out of my giggles. “Easy, Cassandra. I won’t say anything.”

 

“You asked for Varric!” she snaps, and I pull back at the way her body stiffens and turns on me in a flash.

 

Ohhh… hm, yeah, I can now see how that connection could be made. “No, nonono, Cassandra I won’t do that to you. You’re a good person; there is nothing wrong with liking romance novels. I love reading them myself. I’m asking for Varric because he’s going to be a good member of the team. He’s a good guy, exaggerator or not.” I tap the toes of my boots to the floor; one of my kinetic tics.

 

She gives the disgruntled sound again as she paces for a bit longer, so I stand up and move myself over to her. She stops, straightens and tenses at my approach. “Cassandra,” I offer my hand; she takes it hesitantly, “I promise, I won’t tell Varric about your love for his series. Though, if you want the next chapter, you might want to be nicer; he’s not too interested in finishing.” That gets me a panic look, and a panicked _squeeze_ to my hand (owwwwww), as Cassandra faces me.

 

 “No, do not say that! He must finish it. The Knight-Captain was falsely accused. He could not possibly leave that alone!” She jerks back like she’s been shocked, maybe because of the rush of emotions she just let off and drops my hand.

 

“Well, just think about that, the next time you feel the urge to yell at him.” I shake out my hand as I give her a cheeky wink. She is still not amused. “So, proof enough? I can also recite your full name if you want.”

 

She’s debating; even I can read that in the long pause and flickering eyes across my face. Finally, she answers with a dull voice, “Yes, I do think that will be enough, for now. But tell me, _how_ do you know this?”

 

Well, hm. How do I explain this ‘sight’ of mine? Need it to be understandable. I tap-a-tap my index and middle finger against my lips as I think.

 

“Hm… how to explain… So, imagine if the two of us were having this conversation, but Cullen was standing behind me, like behind my right shoulder, listening. He can’t talk to us, and we can’t see him, but he is listening and taking notes on the things we do. That’s how I’ve seen things that have happened since before even Ostagar,” Cassandra is in stunned silence, staring at me. “I’ve been on the shoulder of the Warden- excuse me- Queen since Arl Howe destroyed the Couslands. After the Blight, I somehow jumped onto Hawke’s shoulder and followed them around. Hell, I saw _you_ kidnap Varric. It’s… very, very odd to be addressing you in person.” I smile as charmingly as I can to her narrowing eyes, though I _think_ I see a touch of sadness behind it. I definitely couldn’t tell her, pissed off and suspicious, how it felt like I was meeting friends again, seeing as how I wasn’t to them. I pull my hands down from their talking/flailing and rub them together, hoping it wasn’t an obvious motion of distress for her to read.

 

“That is… amazing, and unbelievable (I pout) can you see into the future as well?”

 

I shrug lightly, lifting my right hand to rub my neck… wait, why is this familiar? “Bits and pieces. I know who she is,” I nod over to Trevelyan. “At least her last name. I know several of the big decisions she’ll have to make when she wakes up, and-”

 

“ _She_ will make?” Cassie growls and looks at Trev. I reach out to cross my arm at her chest level, making a visual stop for her.

 

“She’s not your enemy, Cas,” She gives me a look. Pretty sure that’s Cassandra’s ‘are you insane?’ look; though if she’s looking at me like that because I stopped her or for actually calling her Cas, I don’t know. “She is NOT your enemy. That thing on her hand is directly connected to the hole in the sky. That hole is connected to the Fade. Shi-Stuffff, is about to go down all through Thedas. But I _promise_ you, it wasn’t her fault.” I stress as hard as I can.

 

“Do you know whose fault it is then?” She’s bristling up and I very quickly remove my hand.

 

I tap my thumbs together and nod, slowly cause I am thinking. Is now the time to mention him?... It doesn’t feel right. “I do, but there is no way to track them right now. They are recovering from the Breach, too.” I look at her and make a small show of pressing my lips together, hoping it’s enough of a clue to not ask me. “Can I talk to Cullen next, please?”

 

Cas stares down at me for a while longer; I have to force myself to keep my eyes on hers. I am rather _easy_ to intimidate most days. She sniffs her nose and nods, before turning on her boots and walking off. I give a deep breath out as I hear her go up the stairs and look over to Trevelyan. *

 

I frown as I notice that no one has fixed her from the attack. I move over and adjust her clothing before I touched her hand, the right one. She’s freezing; probably as bad as I was. I unpin my blanket and cover her up, mostly around her torso. Looking at her this close, she’s maybe mid- to late 20s and completely freckled on her cheeks. Thick scars, three long slashes from over her left eyebrow down to the right side of her chin makes me think some big cat might have gotten her. Long lashes, but thin eyebrows and a nasty shiner on her left eye. From her build, I’m going to guess she’s a warrior. I pet the hair out of her face and behind her ear as I look around for a pillow. I click my tongue over my teeth in the lack of makeshift pillow material and reach up for my purse strap. I do my best to ignore the ache of my arm and plop the bag in from of me. Phone, iPod, Kindle, 7 different chargers, 2 extra portable batteries, my roll up-able solar power charger (thank you Marine best bud and my own paranoia), earphones (small and ear cover ones), huge multi-tool, pepper spray, switchblade (my school’s on the ‘rough’ side of town, but I have never needed to flash it), my mini journal book, 15 different pens, 15 _million_ hair ties, soft bristle hairbrush, my emergency week’s worth of depression and anxiety medication, pay cards, and a packet of friends and family pictures. If I move everything to one side of the purse, and stuff the other with the straw I see around, it could make a fair pillow. I add my charm bracelet to the purse, not needing another rift to pull my arm off.

 

Pillow under head, after I tilt her head to the side and pulled her hair back into a bun, I tuck her right arm next to her body and cover her again. I am just reaching to look over the Anchor with the door slams. Heavy footsteps; Time to play with Cullen.

 

Oh, he is such a dear! The Commander is mantle/red tunic and arm-armor-less and has blankets and waterskins. I beam up at him, feeling my eyes crinkle as he smiles back abit but his eyes are shy. So cuteeeee. I pat the stool I was sitting in for him.

 

“Welcome back, Commander.” I take the blankets he offers me. I fan out the top one and covered Trevelyan’s legs, tucking her tight. The second one I pull over my own shoulders, hoping my hiss of pain wasn’t noticeable to him. I clip it together with my earlier pin and flap it over the rest of me. This one is long enough to cover me in a sitting position. I take a waterskin and take a loooong drink… till it’s empty. Well, I can drain a 16 oz bottle in one go, so…

 

“I’ll remember to bring back a few more,” Cullen remarked, and I nipped the mouth of the skin. Oh my god, it seems like he is being a bit of a smart aleck. Like seriously, why wasn’t this one of my bondage dreams, damnit?!! I swear I’m going to squeal my panties off if he gets anymore sassy. “Now the uncomfortable part, I suppose.” He rubs his neck and looks at me sternly again. I can feel my face pull up into an ‘icky’ wrinkle.

 

I give him back the skin and tap-a-tap my fingers to my lips. There’s plenty of secrets I can pull from with Cullen, but which is the least painful? I look back up into those golden eyes and _just_ stop a little whine from coming out. I surprise him, from the harsh jerk backwards that he does, as I offer my hand. It’s my go to method of offering comfort; holding hands, hugs, hell I kiss people on the cheeks, temples and foreheads just to give them comfort.

 

Cullen looks at my hand for a long moment, flicking his eyes from the hand to my face and back a few times, before sighing softly. He removes the leather glove from his left hand and places it in mine. I squeeze most of my hand over his fingers, rubbing my thumb over his knuckles. I can feel so many calluses on his fingers. “Sorry, Cullen, this is going to be really uncomfortable for you to hear.” He is tensing hard, so I take my other hand and place it on his forearm. I keep my thumb moving gently back and forth, but don’t move anything else; I wonder if one of my coping techniques will work for him.

 

“I am sure I surprised you by mentioning the Circles, but I don’t want to bring that up anymore. I want to tell you how _proud_ I am that you have stopped taking lyrium.” He’s completely and utterly stunned, and I think it’s only the fact that I’m rubbing his hand that stops him from yanking himself away. “I know you worry about your vows, and how stopping lyrium might affect your performance as Commander. I-” I swallow and squeeze his forearm as my own eyes squeeze tight. “I personally can’t even imagine the amount of pain you are going through. To take that stuff for over a decade and now to stop… it takes a strong, _dedicated_ person to even try to get off an addictive substance.” I kneel up so that I’m almost eye to eye with the shaking man. I know this was something hard to bring up to a friend like Cassandra; let alone to have a complete stranger know about it. I pull my hand from his arm and cup both of them around his, squeezing his fingers. “You _can_ do this, Cullen. Whenever you have a moment, when the pain feels like it is too much, when you have doubts; You _CAN_ do this.” I give him one last squeeze and stand up. I feel my eyes moisten as he looks bewildered up at me. His own eyes are completely blown; so scared and worried about this. I wonder what he sees in my own chocolate eyes. I take my right hand, project my intent and start to loop it slowly around his neck and pull his face into my shoulder, trying to hug all my encouragement into him. He’s stiff (yes, I know some people don’t react well to hugs, but it’s the only way _I_ know) but he doesn’t pull away; only squeezes my hand that still holds his. I tuck more of my body into him; I want to shield him from his pain and fear. “You are such a good man, Cullen. Such a kind person.” I give him one more arm squeeze and release him, stepping back. He is still holding my hand, though.

 

I am out of his personal bubble, (I thiiiiink) but he stays latched on to my hand for a few more moments, staring down at it. I stay still, letting him think whatever he needs to for a bit. I smile as he pushes out a long breath and looks up again. His pupils are mostly back to normal and as he stands up, I smile softly. My hand, having been pulled up to his chest level by him standing, is released. I drop both hands to my hip line, but show them palm side up, shyly offering myself up for another hug. He notices but doesn’t take me on my offer. “I’m sorry, Cullen. That was actually one of the least painful secrets I know.” I watch as he slips the glove back on and fix himself up.

 

He sighs, but nods, rubbing his neck again. “If what you told Cassandra is true, about being able to observe from the shoulder of Queen Elissa and Hawke for the last decade… you likely do know a number of more uncomfortable secrets.” I am pretty sure I hear a bit of tense anger in his voice.

 

“Cullen, I don’t want to hurt you. You are a good person who has been through a number of very hard situations. But you’ve never lost your commitment to trying your best. Even at the end with Meredith trying to kill every mage and even Hawke, you did not stand down. You stood for your morals in the face of command.” I stomp my foot slightly and point my finger to his nose. He jumps and goes cross eyed for a split second before watching me. “That’s why you are a great Commander, and you better not let _me_ hear you say otherwise.” I cross my arms, trying to look stern. Course, he beats me in the stern looking event, but I change my tactic and beam at him. (Oh, damnit, I still make my lil ‘heee’ sound when I do it. I don’t even think about it!) That works; he gives a little snort and smiles _just_ a touch. “You won’t let Leliana kill me, will you?” I turn my puppy eyes on him as I brush down my blanket.

 

“I think she will be even more curious now. I will be by the door; do scream if you feel in danger,” Oh my god, _he smirked_. Full-on, completely joking, mischievous brat smirked at me! I feel my own face redden and I can’t stop my huge grin, even as I reach up to cover my cheeks.

 

 “No! No, you don’t get to be cute at me, Mister.” He blushes and looks to the side when I say ‘cute’, but that lip scar is still curled. “Shoo, go away with your handsome, sassy self,” He looks agasped at me calling him out on his looks, but seriously? How could he not know how hot he is? I stomp my foot once more and point hard to the stairs, before turning my back to him and huffing dramatically. I hear another small snort and wait until the boots are starting up the stairs before I move to sit back on my stool. **

 

I have to wait almost no time for Leliana to come over, her hands hold a half loaf of bread and a jar of something. “Hi,” I hold my hand out for the bread, confused when she shakes her head.

 

“Sorry, not yet. I want to check on your shoulder first.” She still sets the bread in my lap but removes both gloves and pops the clasp on the mason jar-like jar. Whatever it is, it’s a deep green and the scent… oh that’s the same Earthy smell Cullen had. I raise my brows in question. “Elfroot salve. You do not have this where you are from?”

 

“No, we use cold packs for bruises and general aches,” I shrugged my good shoulder and started to wiggle myself out of my shirt from under my blanket. After 4 years in Asia, including numerous trips to public baths in winter since my apartment was crap, I don’t _usually_ care about being seen half-dressed or even fully nude by women anymore. Only things I worry about being judged about is my fat rolls. And maybe my tattoo, but that’s on my hip. I’ll tell you right now; my family’s line of busty women did NOT skip me, but my stomach is still bigger than my boobs. Sadness.

 

I wiggle until my shirt is off, but I hold it folded over my front. I unclip my blanket it and pool it across my chest too. If Leliana is curious about my bra, she doesn’t show it. I look over at my left shoulder and hiss. Yup, bruising up like an overly ripe peach already. “I swear, I bruise if I even look at a wall wrong,”

 

“I believe it is because you are so fair skinned,” She gave a little half smile as two salve coated fingers start moving over the bruise. It was cold on touch but warmed quickly. The strangest part was that it dried fast and made… pressure on the bruise. Like a bit of suction, drawing up the skin. I poke at the parts that are dry, very curious. “You will still ache, but this will make the bruise much smaller.”

 

“Damn… cool. Wish we had elfroot,” poke poke. Then it flakes as it completely dries and falls away. Instead of my purpling skin, I now see the yellow tint of an almost healed bruise. “Cooooool.”

 

“That is an interesting word to describe your amazement,” Leliana mentions as she walks behind me, dapping the slave here and there.  

 

“Oh… shoot, good point. A lot of my vocabulary is going to sound odd to you guys… just watch my face. Well, you do anyway, but you get my point.” I remark as she dabs the last bit over the nic from Vanril’s sword. “Thanks, Nightingale.” I smile at her. She nods and gently brushes away the last of the flakes, capping the jar and I wiggle my shirt back on. Redressed and blanket clipped back on, I start pulling bits of my bread and eating them. “So, do you still need some self-secrets or are you happy with what I told Cullen and Cassie?” She’s neutral faced and I wait quietly.

 

I don’t see it; all I see was her wrist flex up and down, and suddenly a knife is to my throat. I freeze the moment I recognize that she is right in line to kill me. She watches me, for what I have no. _fucking_. clue, nudging my throat/ chin with the flat part once. I swear to God in heaven I’m going to pee my bed in this damn dream. After a few moments of silence, and my nerves getting the better of me, I joke, “I remember seeing you use a bow more than daggers.” I gave Zev my daggers and Leliana a bow and crossbow during my playthroughs.

 

She smirks, and that is the most ‘ice down you back’ frightening expression I’ve seen. She taps me once more before doing the flick up again and I can now see the knife slip into a small groove in her gauntlet. I collapse off the stool, clutching my bread loaf as I pant and tremble. I shake my head to hide the scared tears that are trying to well up in my eyes.

 

“It would seem you are, in fact, not possessed. From Cullen and Cassandra reactions to you, I think you do know us in some fashion. You might even be able to help us, but I need something more. For the future,” I nod slowly, trying to think of something that I can give her. A few more moments to calm myself enough to get off my aching knees off the floor and I can get myself fat hinny back onto my seat. There are too many theories about how knowing the future can affect the future… wait a minute, this is a fucking _dream_. Should I really care so much about playing along with-oh lightbulb!

 

“I have one. It should happen any time now, so it’s a good test. There will be a bald, elf apostate coming soon. Not Dalish, but he doesn’t hold himself like a city elf either. His name is Solas. Bring him down here when he comes; he’s an expert on the Fade, and that thing in the sky is a hole _to_ the Fade. He’s a very nice guy, please don’t give him crap just cause he has magic.” Nom nom down my bread and I dust off my hands. “Also, can I please, please see the babies of Schmooples? We don’t have nugs where I am from and they look so sweet!” I squeal a little bit at the end, but Leliana gives a little, likely false, half smile.

 

“I am not expecting a litter for Schmooples two in the near future, but I am sure we can find you a nug to pet.” I thrust my fist up and whoop softly and she actually gives me a full smile. I’m still betting it’s a ‘pacify the strange woman’ version. “Now, I will send down Varric,” I beam, sound and all, clapping my hands and tapping my toes. Bring on my favorite dwarf.

 

As Leliana leaves, though, the Mark lights up and Trevelyan’s body snaps around itself. I’m no medic, that’s my brother’s area, but I quickly kneel down to make sure she doesn’t thrash her head. I sit Indian style and pull her head into my lap and hold it. The Mark keeps sparking for a few more seconds, making her body twist around itself more. The game never really went into depth of just how bad that thing hurts in the beginning, but it’s damn obvious now. Finally, the Mark calms, but that left Trevelyan slightly awake, and whimpering like a beat dog. I pulled her up more into me, holding and rocking the drifting woman. I start to sing, trying to comfort while also hoping she falls unconscious again. She sags into me, going under again, just as I realize I’m singing Twinkle Twinkle again, the second song in my dad’s old lullaby set.

 

“Shit,” I eep and jerk to look behind me, and damn, if my own body doesn’t completely relax at the man with me now. Varric Tethras, in all of his open tunic glory. His light red hair, and in this dream he has thick silver at his temples, is done up in a ponytail still. That mark on his nose looks slightly fresher than when the Herald meets him. Chest hair abound, I also take notice that Varric might just be a ripped as Cullen, just in a smaller, denser package. His light light brown (almost orange tint) eyes are on me and the Herald.

 

I smile at him as best I can, considering I’m still scared for the younger woman. “Hi Varric. I know this is going to sound weird, but man, I am sooo happy to see you.”

 

He looks at me, studying me like the others, but his vibe is so much more casual than theirs. After a few moments, he gives a cheeky half smile and a side head tilt before coming closer. “The Seeker said something about you knowing me and waiting to see me. Got a name there, sweetheart?” Damn, copy and paste his game voice in this dream at least. He hops on my stool and looks at me. Not watching, just looking; I relax a bit more mentally. Varric always felt like a calming presence, even when he was watching or ‘scheming’.

 

“Name is Dana Fannon, my dear dashing rogue,” I wink playfully, and his smile comes just as easily. “I go by Dana or Ms. Fannon to most people, Ms. Fan to my trouble makers, but I’ll leave any new nicknames to you.”

 

“Think I’ve already got one in mind, in fact,” I gasp in delight which makes him chuckle low in his chest. “So, what did you want to see me about?”

 

“Well, not sure how much Seeker and Curly told you,” he looks to be suppressing some kind of emotion, but nods at my gentle drop of his nicknames for Cassandra and Cullen. “But I know things. Lots of things; things that I have no business knowing _and_ being here. I know you, Varric Tethras, and I am glad you are here.” I reach out my hand to shake his, and he obliges me. “So, I have been sharing little secrets that prove to everyone that I do know them and that they can trust me. Mind if I pull some for you?” I have to squiggle some now; Trevelyan’s a bit heavier than I thought and I’m sitting on a stone floor. My tailbone does not appreciate.

 

“Alright, this ought to be good. Fire away, Songbird,” I still… and suddenly my eyes are watering as I look back at him. _Nickname_?! “Hey, hey, now’s not the time to get weepy on me,” I sniffle some and hide my face into my blanket. Damnit self, not cool. He’s probably completely confused now; be serious.

 

“Check-” ah, throat closing up. Cough, “Go check to make sure there’s no one listening in. They are your secrets.” I hear a low chuckle and him walking away. I set Trevelyan back on the floor and scrub my face again, slapping my cheeks lightly to try to buck myself up.

 

“Got to admit,” Varric comes back and scoots closer to me as I turn my full attention on him. “Not so sure I like making a woman cry on first meeting her. Feels like my male ego should be wounded.”

 

I snort hard up my nose and throw my head back to laugh. Oh, the echoes. I rub my ears as I look back at him, smiling even harder to see him smiling. “Oh, shush, Master Tethras. You’ve broken hundreds of hearts in Kirkwall. Well… I guess Bianca really broke them for you,” I wink and make a show of leaning to try to see around his back. His smile turned knowing as he hefted the crossbow from his back to his front. I wiggled closer, sorry again tailbone, to look at her. In her rest form, Bianca’s handle wasn’t descended, nor were her bows out, but you could still see all the fine and well-kept details that adorned her. “Hm… guess I can see why Hawke lost out to her. She’s damn pretty.”

 

“That she is. Course, Hawke moved her sights elsewhere pretty quickly. Hnn, what’s a man to do?” He grinned and winked as she swung Bianca back around.

 

“Well, being the kick-ass woman she was, she certainly had her pick. You really didn’t want any of that goodness?”

 

Varric laughed hard, slapping his knee, but shakes his head. “No, turns out she sets fires to her bed sheets, so she says.”

 

Ahhhh, so we are the cannon mage Hawke. Coolies. “Oh, come on. I mean, I know you wanted some cute dwarven serving girls in the Hanged Man, but us human girls got legs for dayyyys,” wink wink, and I’m laughing while he’s giving me a wide, lipped smile. Clearing my throat, I pull my right leg up to bend at the knee and lean on it. “How am I doing so far? Nothing too unsettling yet?”

 

“No, no. So far it’s good information, things you shouldn’t know. But still nothing ‘seer’ worthy yet. Keep ‘em coming.”

 

I give him a small raspberry, which makes his eyes soften more. I look around him again to the stairs, chewing on my lip, before I meet his face again. I pull all the joking out of my face and whisper, “Bianca is the 14th prototype developed by Gerav; Ms. Darvi completed her.”

 

He is completely still now, absorbing my information. I stay very still myself; I just confessed a lot of things without actually saying much at all. He hunches forward, hands steepled and resting on his mouth, his eyes flashing this way and that. I squirm, I can’t deal with this; I might have just hurt my favorite dwarf!

 

A long breath in and out and he rubs his face hard. “Shit.” Is all he says as he looks at me, more intense this time. It’s just as critical as the advisers’ stares, but I just can’t feel scared of Varric. I scoot even closer and offer my hand. His lip curls in the corner and takes mine in both of his. Damn, his hands are big for his size… so cool.

 

I squeeze, keeping my cheek resting on my knee as I watch him. I try to reflect how much I cared in my eyes, though I never know if it works. “Sorry. It’s the one story you never wanted told. I will never mention it again. On my honor as a teacher. Course,” I sigh and pout, “I can’t read Common, so teaching in Thedas would be impossible.”

 

He still keeps quiet for a bit longer, but finally gives me a long sigh and a little half smile, to which I give him a huge one. He squeezes my hand back before letting go. “I’m still going to hold you to that, Songbird.” I squeal, dance/wigging on my butt and tap my feet like a nut job, which I am. “What is it about me calling you Songbird?”

 

“Cause you give nicknames to your friends, and I would personally _adore_ if you might consider me one in the future. I’m just glad it’s not ‘Fortune teller’ or ‘Future Seer’. Least it’s not Broody,” I give another little raspberry, grinning into my knee as he laughs. “I mean, sure, Fenris could out brood anyone, but that was not a good nickname day for you.”

 

“Oh yeah? Did you have a better one?” Varric stood up and offered his own hand to help me up. I try to borrow him as little as possible as I did. Oh, and Varric comes up to the middle of my sternum; going to have to mind that if I get to give hugs in the future. Dream or no, I am _going_ to hug Varric if he lets me.

 

“Well, Glow-worm, Nightlight, Light-‘em-up,” I start dramatically counting on my fingers with a smart-ass smirk going. His own smirk is telling, though he folds his arms over his chest in an attempt to be angry.

 

“Not to cut you off, but he didn’t light up enough to warrant those names.” Ohhh, aren’t we a smug ass dwarf? I raspberry again.

 

“The fact that he lights up at all is warrant enough to-”

 

An ear-piercing scream sounds from Trevelyan as the Mark lights up even brighter than before. Shit, I can feel my eardrums vibrate as the poor woman’s body twisted and snapped on itself. I dive and cover her upper body, pinning her to the floor while getting one arm under her head. That’s when I see the blood.

 

“Fuck! She bit herself! Varric,” I don’t even have to finish his name as he is trying to pin her legs together, pulling a leather belt around them. Soon as her legs are tied together, he looks to me and I nod down to my position. I need to put something in her mouth to stop her, and I have an idea. Once Varric’s got his arms around her waist, pinning her arms as best he can, I grab my purse from under her head. I unclip my strap from its rings and fold it in the middle enough to thicken it up. Pinning her thrashing head and getting her mouth open is hard; she flailed herself off my lap, cracking her nose to the floor below us once. I finally get the strap between her tongue and her upper teeth, using the end clips to tie it in places.

 

“Varric, can you hold onto her for just a bit longer? I want to get Cullen and-”

 

“Get a move on, Songbird! She’s going to keep hurting herself at this rate.”

 

I put her head down and mad scrambled up and down the hall.

 

 

 

 

 

 

*

The others are waiting for Cassandra in the main hall as she finishes ascending the stairs

 

Leliana, hands resting behind her back, watched her closely. Her expressions show more frustration of being told an unwanted truth, rather than the disbelief of a made-up story. “So, she did know something unexpected about you?” The gritting of the Seeker’s teeth, and the tense under-breath growl gave her more evidence that their other prisoner might not be lying.

 

“She knew… yes, she knew something about myself that I do not reveal to many people. One I have not mentioned to anyone for the last few years.” Cassandra was very displeased with anyone knowing her secret love for Varric’s series, especially some unknown, potentially dangerous woman. She tersely goes into how the strange women explained her visions, noting a deep distress falling on Cullen’s face. She takes a calming breath and relaxed a bit before stating her impressions of the woman. “I also sensed no magic around her and… she _looked_ to be sincere in her wish to not spread our secrets. She was… rather… friendly. I would even say ‘kid-like’ in her constantly smiling and attempts to joke. Cullen, I suggest you attempt to confirm the lack of magic while Leliana will threaten her to see if she is possessed.”

 

Cullen nodded while Leliana mused. Indeed, the woman came off as extremely naïve. Quick to cry, equally as quick to startle, unable to look into the eyes of her captures- though, if her stated condition is anything like Silent Eye syndrome, it was understandable- and attempts at humor when nervous were not sound strategies for a spy.

 

“If she is actually as innocent and friendly as she _seems_ , we should act like her mannerism and requests are believable. Let us be _friendly_ back. Cullen,” The Commander draws a little straighter in his shoulders, “take some blankets and water down to her when you go. This could be very interested.” The other two nodded and separated while Leliana headed out to find the famous Kirkwall author.

  
  
  
  
  


** Cullen arrives back upstairs to the sounds of bickering. He recognizes Varric Tethras immediately, but skirts around him and Cassandra to take a seat of one of the few pews still in the main hall. Resting his steepled hands to his mouth and nose, he took a few long, partially stuttered breaths.

 

“Damn, this woman must be something to makes you nervous, Curly.” Varric commented from the side. He hadn’t seen the old Knight-Captain for a while now, but it had been even longer since he’d seen the man this nervous. The dwarf wasn’t surprised to see the man’s expression turn to something painful as he took his last deep breath and turn his half-haunted gaze on the two intimidating women.

 

“She knows… and Cassandra was correct. No magic.”  

 

Leliana nodded before walking over to the small personal care chest they were keeping in the Chantry for now. She took out the jar of elfroot salve, and a half loaf of bread that were meant to be her friendly offerings as she headed down.

 

“And this woman wants to see me?” Varric asked the Seeker for the fifth time. The last three had been more so to get a rise out of the beautiful but very frightening woman.

 

The Seeker snarled and glared down at him again. “This woman has asked to see you by name. How she knew you were here…”

 

“At this point, I would not be surprised if she knew everyone in Haven,” Curly added from his seat, pitching the bridge of his nose.

 

“What she knows has nothing to do with whether or not we can trust her.” Cassandra sniffed is disdain at the idea of trusting such an unknown.

 

Cullen was quiet for a few more moments before he sighed, running his hand along his neck. “If she’s genuine, which I am starting to feel is likely, she could be one of the friendliest and open people I’ve ever come across.” He gave a small scoff before shaking his head in disbelieving wonder.

 

“We will wait for Leliana’s analyze.” Cassandra end all the discussion as she crossed her arms and glared at the door.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter the elf mage, and Cassandra is stretched rather tight.

**_ I put her head down and mad scrambled up and down the hall. _ **

**__ **

I fling open the door and climb up the stairs as best I can, slipping twice and catching my hands on the stone. I can hear arguing as I near the door and hope that someone reasonable is just outside.

 

Opening the door reveals a pleasing and very unpleasing sight. Solas!!... is being argued with/threatened by Cassandra and Cullen while Leliana is holding his staff. I am only sure it’s him, since he’s completely turned the other way, by the bald head, pointy ears, and the ‘hobo apostate’ green vest over tan sweater look.

 

“You come here, saying you understand the hole in the sky, but not knowing how it got there?” Cullen was growing red, but not the cute ‘blushing’ red. This was the ‘I’m going to kill something’ red.

 

“I assure you; I understand your suspensions, but I do not know what caused the rip into the Fade. I am merely very experienced with the Veil, the Fade, and the spirits that lie within. I have come to offer any services my knowledge can provide,” came the gentle baritone that was third on my list of shiver-inducing voices. Cullen is number two.

 

“Spirits in the Fade? You mean demons?! Do you consult with demons so often that you understand them?” Cassandra’s voice is climbing in pitch with her temper.

 

Leliana is the only one to notice me, and god, I _hope_ she sees just how fucked they all are now.

 

“Give. Him,” At this point Cassandra and Cullen notice me, and likely my face and lose some of their anger. Solas starts to turn at my voice. “His. Staff. _Now_.” I can hear and feel my voice catch. I nearly growl (not the rrr but the actually GRRR that some people can do. Tears up my voice box, but not caring now). I take no notice to whether Solas’ eyes follow me or not as I move around him and set myself in-between him and Cullen and Cassandra. “I warned Nightingale that if a bald, apostate elf named Solas arrived, he needed to go down to Trevelyan. Did I not?” I look over to Leliana, who has already passed Solas’ staff back to him and now has her hands behind her back.

 

“You did, Ser Fannon,” Leliana speaks calmly, but I’d bet money she’s in on this argument just as much as the other two.

 

“Did I not also mention to not give him shit when he arrives?” My arms fold over my chest and I hold myself to my Ms. Fan classroom air. Cullen’s hand twitches toward his neck, but he quickly drops it. “Solas, I know this is very strange that a human knows your name, but please let me explain later. Please head to the door behind you and down the stairs. Down the hall, you will find Master Tethras trying to hold Ms. Trevelyan down. The mark on her left hand causes her a lot of pain. I hope you might be able to help.” I still don’t turn from the warriors, letting every ounce of ‘I’m so disappointed with you two’ bleed from me.

 

“I shall at once, Ser Fannon,” I hear him turn and leave, seeing Leliana watch him from the corner of my eye. I can just hear his steps hit the stone stairs. I wait for a few more seconds, before I breathe a harsh breath out through my teeth and point at the two. “You two have been making _great_ strides in your prejudice of mages,” Both gawk at me and they look ready to protest, but I snap my fingers once and point again. “You are going to learn very quickly that the Inquisition will end up taking all kinds. And if I name someone, they are likely to be _key_ in helping.” I turn to leave, jerking up short as Leliana touches me. I need to take a quick, quiet breath; I touch others like crazy, but surprise touches _from_ others, always make me tense. “Yes, Sister Nightingale?”

 

“Your hands have been cut,” she offers with no inflection.

 

“I trip easily,” I offer back and attempt to smile. Can’t really, I’m tense as hell now. I don’t want to be mad at Cassie and Cullen; I know how much they have grown, but damnit, Trevelyan is suffering. I nod to the three and continue back through the door and down into the hall. ***

 

The two men have gotten Trevelyan still enough that Solas can work his magic over her hand. Her sleeve has been rolled up enough that they could see all the green veins that go from her palm to her elbow. “Jesus Christ,” I mutter as I kneel down at her head, cradling her gently.

 

“Is that your city’s version of ‘Shit that looks bad?” Varric asks as he uses his weight to keep her pinned to her side. Solas has her left hand stretched out all the way, waving a steady green mist over the whole arm. I can see the neon green leaving her veins and being pulled back down to her hand in slow motion.

 

“Eh, that’s my county’s version of blaspheming one of our religious figures. Kinda like ‘Andraste’s ass’ or ‘Maker’s balls’,” Varric actually snorted and I look up just in time to see Solas’ tinyyyyy smirk dissolving from his lips at the same time as a little huff up his nose. I try looking at Solas better now. The first surprise is that I can see the finest bits of brown stubble starting to form on his scalp. So not naturally bald. Those light red-brown eyebrows are turned down in deep concentration, and I can’t see his eyes in this low light and at his angle. I try to make my look at his ears quick, but... I end up staring. I’m pretty sure they are longer than what is depicted in the game; the points end behind his head a bit in profile. So curious…

 

“Ser Fannon,” I jump, _am screaming red_ for being rude and staring, and cast my eyes quickly to Varric. He’s not looking at me, but I swear he’s wearing a knowing smirk.

 

“Yes, Solas?... Ser Solas?... Messere Solas?... Crap, Varric, help. Which one is the better one?” Shit, I want my corner again. Why can’t I have my corner to hide in?

 

“It is alright, Ser Fannon. You may address me as Solas.” He finally looks up at me, and those storm blue eyes, the pointed chin with a dimple…. And staring again. Cue my blush and my fidgets.

 

“But if you call me Ser, then shouldn’t I back? Sorry, no matter how many times I go through my visions, the Serah and such confuse the heck out of me.” I wiggle back and forth on my butt just as I throw my ponytail over my shoulder to wrap my fingers into it. I can’t look at either of them now; shit, I was doing so well.

 

“In terms of manners, Songbird, you go with Serah or Ser if they are the same or less than you on the social ladder. But it’s better to call someone what they ask you to call them,” Varric offers in an easy voice, and I watch him pat my hand. I don’t tense up _like_ I did with Nightingale, thankful. I take two more slow, quiet breaths and look up again to Solas, who is giving me a gently encouraging smile.

 

“Then I’d like to be called Dana, or Ms. Fannon please… unless you like Varric’s nickname, cause I am _loving_ Varric’s nickname right now,” I go from solemn and polite to semi-sassy.

 

“I do aim to please. Especially when it’s someone who knows so many dark and dirty secrets.” Varric pulls a serious face at me, but I think I see a twinkle in his eyes.

 

“I said I was sorry! I didn’t know how else to prove my visions,” I do an exaggerated pout, and even a high pitch whine of misery. Though I stop as I see Solas’ eye twitch. “Oh, sorry Solas.” And now I’m curious about just what the range is on elf hearing.

 

“It is not a problem, Ser Fannon.” I almost pout, but Solas was always one for super formal manners. “Am I to understand that you have visions that allow you to see me? And that is how you knew I was coming?” He’s gone back to focusing on Trevelyan, weaving his hands back and forth, round this way and that over the mark. Kinda hypnotizing to be honest. Add in that dulcet voice and he could read me the phonebook to sleep.

 

“Yes, and I _warned_ them,” I left out an exasperated sigh as I remember the fight happening. “I know Cullen and Cassandra have personal reasons to be nervous about magic, but Jesus, I _did_ tell them.” And cue the ‘bite lower lip and minor growling under breath’ pout.

 

“Remember who you are talking about, Songbird. And what _just_ happened,” Varric counters gently, making me turn to him. “You can see the future, we can’t. We’re going on a lot of faith with what you say.”

 

I tap-a-tap my fingers as I think on his words. True; to everyone else, the Breach is a very new threat. The storyline for the game picks up as the Herald is waking up, which is implied to be at least some time after the Breach’s creation. Everyone is still well within their rights to be freaking out, even with/ because a new source is telling them it’s going to be ok. I nod slowly and start thinking of ways to help ease the others’ minds.

 

“So, just how much do you know, Songbird?” Varric asks and it’s now I realize that he’s moved off Trevelyan to sit next to me at her head. I _nearly_ lean into him, as a buddy bump, and just stop myself in time.

 

“In terms of everyday stuff, very little. I see big events, big decisions. What does Hawke do between Isabela and the Arishok? Who was the Warden’s pick in Orzammar? Hell, I can actually see the different outcomes of their potential choices. I definitely didn’t agree with all their decisions, but given how I watched the events happen, I feel…close to those involved.” I turn puppy eyes to Varric, who sighs dramatically and leans against my side a little. “Yayyy” I say Fluttershy soft.

 

“That doesn’t mean this isn’t weird. You saying the things you do makes my back shudder,” At least Varric is being honest… ish.

 

“Sorry, I will really try to behave myself; yours was really brutal,” I give him one more buddy bump lean before giving my attention back to Trevelyan and Solas. Her hand is really starting to settle down now, and Solas is starting to use a different magic. It’s pale blue, and it makes little bursts at different points around the hand. “What spell’s that, Solas?”

 

“I am trying to place a few wards around this mark. I hope to ease Ser Trevelyan until her mind can return from the Fade. I will also be placing a few mental wards, to help protect her while her mind is there. There are already numerous spirits and demons pressing in around her. She does not have the defenses of a mage to protect herself, and this mark seems to be glowing far and wide.” Solas responded solemnly as he set her hand down and looked at me. “I need to switch places with you, Ser Fannon.”

 

Yeah, definitely third place in my Dragon Age voice kink line up. No, wait. I forgot Zev… and Broody… ok, third in my Inquisition voice kink line up.

 

We all move around. Solas kneels at her head rather than cradling it like I had. Varric unties her legs and fixes up her blankets as I hold her marked hand, gently massaging her forearm. It looks a hell of a lot better, so I look at the Mark directly finally. It’s jagged, from the base of her index finger, through most of the meat of her palm, ending right at the wrist line under her pinkie. Oddly enough, I can see in pretty deep, a shifting of green layers, but it doesn’t seem to cut very deep into her palm. I boop it; yes, I boop the fucking Anchor that will soon seal rifts that spit out demons. I boop it and feel nothing. No shocks, no moving air, hell, I don’t even feel flesh. It’s just… a hole.

 

“Stop touching the thing, Songbird!” Varric sounds floored and in complete disbelief.

 

I set her hand down and cover her with the blanket again. I watch Solas work around her head, though I felt the urge to fix her hair for her. “Can you see her mind in the Fade, Solas?”

 

“Not directly. It is almost like seeing her shadow, against the light of this mark. She is not even dreaming at this time. When she begins to dream, we will know she is recovering.” One last little blue star blast, right in the middle of her forehead, and he turns those eyes on me. So prettyyyy…“You are not afraid of magic, Ser Fannon. You would not be from Tevinter, would you?” Solas asked, and I snort hard up my nose. I wave to dismiss both of their looks and cover my giggles.

 

“Oh, lord no. Cullen and Cassie probably would have killed me on sight. Where am I from? That’s going to be one of those answers you’ll never believe me on.”

 

“Even with everything you’ve said to Curly, Seeker and me?” Varric scoffed hard and I grinned and winked at him.

 

“Even with all that. I mean, can you believe I fell through a rift, into the Fade, and out again?” I smooth Trevelyan’s hair back and make her comfy again, while Varric whistles and Solas blinks a few times. Damn, wish I knew her first name. “Varric, could you give Solas and me a few moments? Just be careful; I’m sure Seeker is peeved at me. Hopefully, she won’t take it out on you.”

 

“I’m made of some pretty tough stuff.” I beam again; damnit, why does Varric talking to me just make me happy as hell? “I’ll hold them off for five minutes, don’t think I can promise any more than that.”

 

I nod as he leaves, pulling my legs in to sit Indian style again as we wait. Solas has his head very subtly cocked as he, probably, listens to Varric’s assent. I smile softly when his head centers and he gives me his full attention. “How is Wisdom doing, Solas?”

 

The only surprise I get is a rather quick blink, followed by a slower one, and a ghost of a smile. “The last I spoke with her, she was well. Most of the thinking spirits have left the immediate area, for fear that they will be pulled through the Breach.” Solas coolly responses as he starts to stand. I grimace and grouse as I stand too, my knees are starting to act up. Even in an awesome Thedas dream, my mental body is oldddd. “If you know of Wisdom then am I to guess that you do not see spirits and demons as one in the same?” He is leaning on his staff slightly as I dust off my hands. Standing facing each other now, I notice that Solas is just a hair taller than me. I also notice, _without staring_ , that his body shape is like those Anime boys from the yaoi-teasing, sports manga. Long distance powerhouse over quick and hard hammering… does that make sense?

 

“Correct, my favorite Elven scholar,” I grin at the fact that I got a tiny eyebrow raise out of him. “I do, in fact, know there is difference. I remember you having long discussions with Trevelyan over the differences. It… was a little hard to hear, after I had followed the Warden and Hawke around for so long. Those two ran into so. Many. Demons!” I notice how much I am flailing with my hand talking and try to tone it down. Solas is as calm as always. “But then we meet a spirit of Compassion named Cole, and I never doubted the difference again.” My little snuggle bugggggg! Oh, how I want to just wrap him up like a burrito and snuggle him away from all of life’s stupidness!

 

“A spirit of Compassion named Cole?” Solas is interested now, even leaning forward a little to study me.

 

“Yes, if everything works out like I remember it. I _won’t_ let anyone hurt my Cole-Cole.” I huff up some, cracking my knuckles like I could _possibly ever_ be intimidating. HA!

 

Solas gives me a slightly bigger smile, and a nod. “A spirit of Compassion is a wonderful spirit to have as a friend. I would predict that you two would get along quite well.” I smile and hug myself at the idea of getting to snuggle my Cole. Sweet Pea! Solas drums his fingertips lightly over his staff as he turns his full detective reasoning powers on me.

 

“Hm. Hold all those questions for _just_ a second,” I ask and mad scramble into a nice stone corner for my back.

 

“You place yourself in a corner. For protection? Have I done something to unnerve you?” I can’t tell if that’s curiosity in his voice or disappointment. Doesn’t matter, I _need_ my corner.

 

“Not you personally, Solas. I’m just… My head is screwed on differently than other peoples’. I can talk to people about a lot of things with normal reactions, but when people start moving toward focusing on _me_ questions, I get nervous.” I close my eyes and wiggle my back into the stone some. Better settled, I smile at Solas. “See? Already better.”

 

“The other acts as well? The playing with your hair and difficulty with looking at Varric and I after you took in my appearance?” And straight down to my boots go my eyes as I blush 50 shades.

 

“That’s a really nice way of saying I was staring and stupidly rude. I’m sorry Solas. There aren’t elves where I’m from, and I’ve seen so much of you, with everything and-” Fucking rambles.

 

“I would like to speak about them with you, when you are feeling more at ease of course. And when we are not about to have company.” And with that Solas passed his staff through his vest’s back. The two little side branches that were 1/3 of the way from the top caught on the holder and allowed the staff to sit comfortably on his back. He turns to look down the hallway, and I swear for the tiniest second, his right ear twitched.

 

They all arrive quickly, and I back myself up a bit more as Cassandra ‘angry’ marches herself over to Solas. “Was the Sooth-Sayer correct? Were you able to help the prisoner?” Sooth-Sayer?... Oh, I liked that. Cullen takes a stand directly behind Cassandra’s right side, not as obviously hostile as he was before. Leliana slinks around the two of them and kneels by Trevelyan. Varric takes one long look at me, raised eyebrow and all, and comes over to stand by me. He makes a bit of a wall between me and the others, and I could kiss him for how easily he could read me. I actually move a teeny bit out of my corner because of his presence.

 

“Your prisoner, Trevelyan, is resting more comfortably. Ser Fannon was correct. I study the Fade. It is not a flashy school of magic, but it is one I have taken much time in studying. The Mark on her hand is directly connected to the Breach in the sky. This was not accidental magic, but as she is not a mage of any kind, I must confess my strong doubts that she was the direct cause.”

 

“She was in the wrong place at the wrong time, _or_ right place, right time, depending on how you look at it.” I add in to Solas’ lecture.

 

“Depending on how we look at it?” Leliana questioned softly, looking at me while Cullen and Cassandra kept their focus on Solas.

 

“The one who created the rift likely meant to do worse. Seems a nice trick of _fate_ that we have someone who will be able to use the same power to close the rifts.”  I cock my head just slightly to the right and say nothing else. Leliana stills for just a moment before standing. Cullen is blinking rapidly, and Cassandra _moves to straight up murder me_! I push into my corner, and a panicked whine falls out of me. Varric, dear Varric, actually moves his body completely in front of my own and holds both hands out to be a defense.

 

“Are you implying that this Breach, her mark, is somehow ordained by the Maker?” Cassandra is basically snarling as she speaks, but I just focus on her belt.

 

“She did call the prisoner the ‘Herald of Andraste’ when she shouted at the guards,” Cullen mused softly, his leather gloved hand moving to rub along his bristled jaw and chin.

 

“It’s what others would start to call her, without my help.” I am losing my voice under the glare of the others. “She _will_ wake up, she _will_ help- either of her own nature or because Cassandra will scare the piss out of her,” That gets Cassie to jerk back, probably just now realizing how scared I am myself. She takes a few steps back. “It’s not going to be easy for her; she will need help.” I make a point of looking at each of them before going back to staring at my twisting hands.

 

“I think that is enough for now,” Leliana stands up and pulls the attention of Cullen and Cassandra. “I think Fannon is being rather honest and helpful towards us. She is obviously far from home, yet despite this, one of her first acts was to gain aid for our prisoner. I believe she is may be genuine.”

 

“Not to mention all the shit she does know; stuff _no one_ should know,” Varric added in, looking back at me to give me a little comfort smirk. Oh, dear lord, love this man. I project my intent to hug him before I do so. My arms weave around his shoulders to his front and I lean my head on his, sighing happily as I do. Good thing he’s built so thick, my height and weight might squish him otherwise. “Also, pretty sure no one this sickeningly sweet has a mean bone in her body.” Varric scoffs and pats my hands around his neck and chest. I snuggle a little harder.

 

“Truly. Such compassion is rarely seen in this age.” Solas adds in and I have to grin into Varric’s ponytail. I heard that pun, Mister.

 

“I’m sorry to say, but she is still an unknown, like the mage. And-”

 

“His name is Solas,” I look up from Varric’s hair and grumble at Cullen.

 

“…Solas is also unknown.” Cullen amended, and I smiled before letting Varric go.

 

“The fastest way to learn something that is unknown is to ask about it, Commander.” Solas offered his sage advice. “I am, however, glad for Ser Fannon’s interference. Trevelyan’s heart was weakening. By addressing me so quickly to the issue, I believe I have stopped her from suffering any permanent damage.” I grin smugly in my head. Yeahhh, see Cullen? Cassie? If you had detained him any longer, Trevelyan could be… dead… well shit that’s not a pleasant thought. I feel a yawn creep up my throat and cover up with my hands. Shit, must be about to wake up on the couch. Hope I can get to bed without tripping.

 

“I say now’s a good a time as any to address the fact that Songbird doesn’t really have any decent clothes, or a bed to sleep in. Think she can get those for good behavior, Curly?” Varric, don’t make me want to squeeze you more.

 

“We can provide her and the prisoner with cots for the time being.” Cassandra huffs, looking between me and Solas. I raspberry her and wave off whatever she is thinking.

 

“Solas will be perfectly safe and happy in one of the little cabins next to Adan the alchemist.” I yawn again, smirking as they all look at me again. Score points for Sooth-Sayer Dana.

 

They all left again, and Cullen and a few soldiers came down with two cots and a number more blankets and pillows. I’m glad mine is able to hold my fat ass as I sit on the side of it. I’m digging through my purse, fiddling with my emergency meds bottle. If this was a dream, I would be waking up when I went to sleep in dream, right? If this wasn’t a dream, and some fucking Elvhen God piece of shit _had_ pulled me from my home, I was on borrowed time in terms of acting half decent. I tip the bottle, making the pill ding the sides. I _need_ my meds; to sleep, to be manageable.

 

I reach for my phone and wake it up. A giant ‘No longer in service” is across the screen. I click that away and see 00:00 for the time. No service, no wifi, and 27% battery. I connect it to one of my extra battery packs, before playing with the settings. Nothing; I can’t seem to make anything change. I thunk my forehead against the phone and try to decide what is going on. Dream, no dream-what is happening to me?

 

Well, if this is a dream, then me taking my meds won’t affect much. I pop the two pills into my mouth and drown them down. I look over at the resting Trevelyan, making sure she was tucked in enough before I wiggled myself into the cot completely. I keep my boots on just for extra toe warmth as I try to relax. Deep breaths through the nose, trying to chase all my stupid random thoughts away. What was I going to wake up to?

 

 

 

 

***

The three of them stood in shocked awe as the rounded woman walked down to the dungeon again, only breaking from their stupor when Leliana gave a small ‘hm’. Cullen and Cassandra looked over to the Spymaster, who held a small amused sneer on her lips. “For one so easily frightened, she had no fear getting involved. It is almost as if she knew she could _trust_ us not to attack.”

 

“Were we just _lectured_?” Cullen adds with his own scoff of disbelief, looking over to a _fuming_ Cassandra. The Seeker of Truth’s teeth were bared and she started forward to chase after the disrespectful-

 

“No, Cassandra,” Leliana’s voice reached the warrior through her tempered haze. “We still need to wait to see what she is after.”

 

“Did you not see her, Leliana?! She tried to _command_ us.” Cassandra snapped and drew to her full height.

 

“Yet, I do not think she meant to sound that way. She may have Silent Eye, similar to Sandal the enchanter.” Both of the others looked for clarification from the bard. “Silent Eye Syndrome. People who do not function the same as the at large population. The more severe cases are not able to hold jobs for they perceive the world in a very different fashion. Sandal was a milder case, in that he was able to communicate when directed and a few words on his own. He was also a master enchanter and able to earn from his work. Hers seems extremely mild; good communication, able to hold a job, but she is not reading us correctly and she seems to also not be aware of how her tone is received.”

 

“Not to mention,” a Kirkwall accent followed, while Varric closed the door behind him, “She’s extremely touchy, but if you touch her when she’s not expecting it, she tenses. Still, way more considered about the other human and the elf than she is about herself… and yeah, she definitely knows some secrets that _no one_ should know.” Varric stretched his neck before adjusting his gloves. “She also asked for a little time to talk with the mage alone.”

 

Cue the already stretched Cassandra snapping. “We can not leave her alone with a mage! We have no idea-”

 

“Seeker, if I may be so bold, you are _not_ the calmest one in the room at the moment. And this kind of situation _needs_ a calmer mind. That woman could know a shit ton of stuff if you ask her right.” Varric jerked his thumb to the door, watching the black-haired warrior fume.

 

“He’s right, Cassandra. She has potential to be a very powerful ally if we work with her.” Leliana stepped forward towards, making a vision of being on his side. “She already seems very fond of us, we can use that to our advantage.”

 

Varric gave a quick clearing of his throat. “Or you could _actually_ be nice and ask her questions. Aside from _where_ she’s from, she’s pretty quick to answer you. Said she fell through a rift, into the Fade and then out again! And said _that_ was the believable part. Nice kid, sensitive though.”

 

“Whatever we do, we should still not leave her alone for too long. We do not know that elf.” Cullen wasn’t ready to take a side at this time. What that woman knew was frightening, but it had never felt like she was using her information to hurt or trick.

 

“I promised I’d win her 5 minutes of alone time. Not too long, right?” Varric looked to Nightingale, since the other two were listening to her lead.

 

“Another minute, then we can go down and address both of them.” Leliana added a nod as she started counting in her head.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah Solas arrives! Not sure about an update next week. Have to see how my work schedule goes with the Holiday.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dream within a dream means you never really wake up, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, for those curious, there arrrrrre going to be romancing couples in these here story. The Herald will have at least one, hehehe, a certain Tevinter mage will have another, and a few others. But love is complicated and won't be around for a while. For now, please enjoy developing relationships of friends and 'family'.

When I next open my eyes, I’m expecting a number of different things. On the couch with tini mix all over myself and Boomy having eaten all my snacks. Maybe it would be morning and I’d have the sun blinding me through my window. Worse would be waking up to still being in a dungeon with the Herald and having Cassie come storming in. Oddly, none of those things are around when I wake up.

 

I’m in the inky blackness of absolutely god-blessed nothing. Just… nothing. I can’t tell if I’m standing, sitting, floating, swimming; what the ever-loving hell, brain?!

 

Luckily, just as soon as I recognize the inkiness, a small little bubble of blue drifts towards me. Seeing it allows me a sense of righting myself, standing and facing the bubble. As it grows steadily larger, I realize that it is in the form of blue flames. “Veilfire?” I ask to no one as I step towards the flame. Jesus, I love Dragon Age, but one with a dream inside of a dream? I’m going to wake up exhausted.

 

The fire, suspended in that would be an ‘over-head’ position if it wasn’t floating, set itself a few feet from me. I don’t feel any heat or wind on my face as it dances and sways. I reach up to touch it, but it moves up higher. I stretch andOHSWEETLORDSOMETHINGISTOUCHINGME!!!

 

I shriek and try to flail the thing off my arm, half dropping myself to the floor in my panic.

 

“Be at ease, Ser Fannon,” came a gentle baritone I knew immediately. Looking back up, and holding my racing heart, I see Solas with a mildly bewildered face. It’s his hand that is around my wrist, and likely his strength that has kept me from falling. He lowers his fire lite hand a bit as he takes me in again.

 

“Solas! Oh, sweet _Jesus_ of mercy! I didn’t know you could go invisible.” I right myself under my own power and pant softly through my adrenaline. His thin right eyebrow goes up a smidge and he releases my wrist, only to go invisible again. “Ok, really?” I reach out to where I last saw him: the back of his hand connects with my questing one, instantly bring him back into view.

 

“Interesting. It seems you can only see me when in direct contact.” Hand removed, Solas gone; hand back, Solas returned. “Your view of the Fade must be a sight.” He looked around our area with a small smile. He adjusts our hands to hold just my pinkie’s tip in a lax grip of his own. Minimal contact, though Solas always _did_ register as a non-touchy type.

 

“Sorry, _hahren_ ,” I try my tongue at what little Elven I know. It’s enough to catch his attention, seeing as how his face whips back to mine and that eyebrow goes up again. “Iiiii don’t see a thing but you and the veilfire.” I give my chin a little jerk towards his hand.

 

“You speak Elven?”

 

“I know bits and pieces, though I’ve never tried speaking. I’ve listened to some different elf pronunciations throughout the series… of visions,” I squeak in. Positive he noticed, but I’m hoping he won’t call me on it. “And since you are the most scholarly elf… well, no. I think you are just the most scholarly person I know of in Thedas.” I half muse. Of course, several others I know are smart, but Solas just always seemed the most rounded in his knowledge of magic and history. “Seriously, you should be a professor in a university.”

 

His eyes soften a touch and a quick curl of his lip makes me think he likes the idea. “You certainly think highly of me. I’m afraid, however, no one but other elves would be willing to learn from an elf. Let alone an elf apostate.”

 

I scoff, hard, roll my eyes back and even cock my hip out in disgust of the idea. “Oh yes. The longer ears are the true show of inferiority. The human race is, blah blah moth-er-fuck-ing _blah_!” His lip curls up a bit more at my attempts at sarcasm. Though whether he finds my statements amusing or myself, don’t have a clue. “No, let’s not look at the fact that you can go anywhere in the Fade, studying and recovering long lost information. No, let’s not look at the fact that you know so much of the thing in the sky that could fling all of Thedas into literal hell,” up goes both eyebrows at hell, “let’s only care about the fact that a man has long ears and a beanpole frame.” I throw my free hand up and give a short ‘Argh’.

 

“A very intriguing reaction to the consensus of many humans. You seek to know the person behind the face before passing judgements?” Solas vanishes the veilfire, and just as fast, his staff is summoned and the glow from the crystal interweaved in it lights up like the fire had. “You have already displayed acceptance of magic as well.”

 

“Way I see it, if a person wants to hurt you or kill you, they are going to find a way to do it. Magic, sword, crossbow, gun, missile; the list is endless if you _want_ to. Hell, bare hands for a choke, etc. And in the case of looking at a person’s personality before judging, um, yeah. It’s the only way that makes sense to me. I’m a human, and as the Inquisition gets larger, there’ll be all the species in Thedas coming to help. Even if we get Quanaris in our lineup, Cassie and Leilana are still going to be the scariest people to me.”

 

Solas tried to school his face during my rant, and I can’t really tell which parts got his attention. Oh shit, Solas and Bull are good at reading slip-ups… damnnnnnnit. “It is a commendable attitude, _da’len._ One that is in very short supply.” He notices my pout at the Elven word and his lip twitches again.

 

“Ok, seriously?” I wave my hand up and down my body, curious of the small pink tint that takes over the tips of his ears as I do. “Not a child, Hahren,” I stress, though it still feels weird in my mouth.

 

Cue the very, very rare ‘mildly sassy Solas smirk’ that I remember from his introduction after the first rift. I can’t help my own grin at that face. It’s so _rare!_ “Perhaps not physically, but you have the open-mindedness and spark of innocence like one. Such a welcoming and easy to approach person is what is truly missing into today’s age.”

 

And because I’m a smart-ass by nature and I imagine it’ll be 10 kinds of fun to make him sweat, I say, “Innocence, huh? Just don’t go telling everyone else that you can tell I’m a virgin.”

 

A cough catches in his throat, his eyes go wide, and he holds a single finger to his lips, making his staff cross over his face too, in an attempt to keep the disbelieving smile off his lips. I just beam, swinging our connected fingers a bit.

 

He clears his throat and goes back to the cool, calm scholar elf I know. “You also have the… forthcoming of a child.”

 

“Nice way of saying I’m as blunt as a hammer. I might have to use that one when Josie is agape at my manners. Though, really my manners aren’t that bad; just don’t take me to Orlais. I’ll be calling out those idiots left and right. Especially those chevaliers.” The right side of my mouth curls up in a disgusted snarl. Looking at Solas, I see what I read as an ‘I agree with you about the disgusting people’ face. “So, we are in the Fade… why can’t I see anything?” Well, that’s a delayed question brain, thanks.

 

Solas’ index finger crooks under mine as he starts to walk us further into the darkness. “You still see nothing?” he asks after we walk for a bit. I shake my head. “Fascinating; I have never met someone who could enter the Fade and not see anything. We are around an old memory of the Haven Chantry. I am seeing the Heroes of Ferelden fighting a strange cult of Andraste believers.”

 

“Oh, I remember those guys! The Hero and others came in here after finding one of Arl Eamon’s Knights dead in the store in town,” As I am speaking, Solas’ eyes start looking around rapidly. “Solas?” I ask in a mildly worried tone.

 

“Keep speaking, Ser Fannon. Tell me of your vision.” His voice is calm, so I keep going.

 

“Well, once they found the body, the whole town tried to attack them. Everyone was just… off. Some fled to the Chantry, so the Hero and crew went after them. In the church, it became apparent that they were nut jobs and there was more fighting. They got a charm from the priest and opened a wall to find Brother Genitivi. He was the one who knew about the Temple of Sacred Ashes. After that, the crew made their way through tons of cultists and dragonlings and drakes, and it ended up being that the cultist believed a High Dragon in the area was actually Andraste reborn... Solassss,” I give a whiny ‘what’s up with you’ voice as he is obviously seeing something interesting in the void around me. Hell, he’s _smiling_... some.

 

“I can see your vision, Fannon,” he says with a touch of wonder as his eyes scanned over different parts of the Void. “Your view of the action is strange. It is almost like you see things from several feet above.” I pink up and clap my hand over my mouth to stop my giggles. Yeah, in the fighting and running around parts of the game I was wayyyyy overhead. It was the first time I had really used the WASD keys and what not. I used my Xbox controller for Skyrim. “You have amazingly detailed visions. I must admit, I have not met someone so at ease with the Fade or magic in quite a while.” Solas turns to face me again.

 

I shrug a touch and switch fingers with the elf. “Where I am from, we don’t have magic. At. All. Magic only exists in literature, but it is some of our most popular literature. The idea of demons taking over a mage is not… the way mages go bad in our ideas is if they work in ‘dark magic’. I guess blood magic in Thedas, according to the Chantry.” Solas’ face shadows a bit, so I give his finger a little squeeze. I catch just the tiniest tension roll up his arm, but he doesn’t jerk away from our connection.  “But it’s human weakness and ego that lead them to the dark path. It’s the person’s personality and wishes that drive them to be the villain.” I shrug again and watch as he takes in my information, before nodding his head.

 

“I would certainly love to hear more about your world, _da’len_.” I stiffen and immediately bit my lip in fear. The elf professor gives me an understanding look, and even his own small finger squeeze back. “Forgive me, Fannon, but I have traveled the Fade for some time. There is nowhere on Thedas that has not been touched by magic. I have even seen some of the lands beyond the known map; they still feel magic.”

 

I just stand there, blinking rapidly at him, as my mind goes into overdrive. Solas knows I’m not of Thedas. Is he the type to use blackmail? He’s seen more of the world from the Fade than anyone else. What’s beyond the borders of known Thedas? Is he FROM beyond Thedas? Solas never really goes into his past, even with his Lavellan. (That I know of. I stopped playing the Solas romance save after that kiss on the balcony. It just… hadn’t felt right. He wasn’t telling her something.)

 

Snapping out of my stupor, I grab his whole hand with both of mine and pull it up. “Teach me, _Hahren_.” I’m bouncing on the fronts of my feet again.

 

He blinks once and I’m pretty sure I just made him _really_ uncomfortable, so I drop his hand completely. I open my hand to the blackness where he was. I inwardly sigh in relief as his pinkie tucks under mine. Least he’s not too upset by my grabby-ness.

 

“Teach you, _da’len_? I thought you were a teacher in your home.” He asks in his ‘studying a subject’ style.

 

I give him my best ‘you’re kidding, right?’ smirk, followed by a wink. “Really, Solas? Because despite knowing so much yourself, do you ever stop looking for new info?” I raise my eyebrows in my attempted sass attack.

 

His face turns into a pleased one, and that bit of red tint comes back to the points of his ears. “I can see your point, _da’len_.” I grin wide. “But I’m afraid now is not the time. It is nearly dawn in the waking world.” He waves his staff with a flourish and a blue spark tapped me in the center of my forehead. It was like getting pelted with a snowball, and I rubbed at the spot. “A small ward; the demons of the Fade have not found you, but I would like to limit that possibility. I will see you in the morning, Fannon.” He lets go of my finger and disappears.

 

I pout, hard, in the blackness, crossing my arms and tapping my foot. Jerk; you can’t offer up a bone like vast knowledge of new things and then yank it away. Especially to a ‘far too curious for their own good’ person like me. I stomp my foot once before sighing and relaxing my mind. I still felt no weight in this space, so I try to get a few extra Z’s.

 

And get poked awake.

 

I cry out and flail around like a loon and tip my cot over until it’s on top of me. Well, excuse me! I was literally just talking to Solas in the dream world… and _of course_ , it’s the elf who has woken me up.

 

He’s kneeling down some to look at me from under my cot. His mouth is turned up a touch and I bristle. No video game character turned dream focus gets to laugh at me for scaring me. I huff/tut very loud, snuggle the pillow back under my chin, and pull the cot over my head some more, until I can see only his feet. “X’use you,” I say in a snotty voice. I swear I heard him cuff a short laugh.

 

“Yes. Do excuse me, _da’len_ , but Seeker Pentaghast is wanting to ask you more questions. We are all quite surprised at how late you slept. It is well past breakfast.” Solas gently spoke as he reaches under and pulls the cot off of me. I keep my face pushed into my pillow and grr at him. “Is this a normal habit of yours?”

 

I grr-ed again but look up at him. “My work week sucks. I work 10-hour split-shift days and commute an hour between my home and my job each day.” I rise up and lean back onto my knees and heels. He is wearing the same outfit, but a quick scent of... some nice soap, tells me either he or his clothes have been taken care of. Certainly not ‘unwashed hobo apostate’ as Dorian and Viv like to joke. “So during my work days, I only get 6 or 7 hours of sleep. On Fridays, which is what today would be, I can easily sleep for 12 to make up for it.” I stretch my back, twisting and wiggling myself back to normal, before sighing harshly in defeat. “So I’m still in this dream of being on Thedas, huh?” I look morosely up at him, watching as a bit of confusion crosses his features.

 

“This is not the Fade, Fannon. You are no longer dreaming.” He stays in his kneeled position as he looks me over.

 

I sigh again, shaking my head as I stand up, hissing as my right ankle acts up. “Solas, there is no way I should be here physically.” I open my arms and wave them around the dungeon. I see the Herald is still asleep too. “You know, I’m not from Thedas. I have had… I have seen you guys for over a year now, but it doesn’t make sense for me to be in a different world. The only _logical_ answer is that I am dreaming. I mean, sure, it’s been a fairly nice dream so far. In line with what I know of everyone.” Not to mention the implications behind the fact that if this _was_ real, how was it depicted nearly perfectly in my world? What did it say about all the different times a player could choose what the lead did? If real people lived those stories, could there be alternative Thedas worlds? Shit, my brain was going to bad areas; calm self.

 

Solas stood up with me, much more fluidly than I, of course. “I can understand that line of thinking. I can, however, affirm to you that you are not dreaming.”

 

I have to resist my overpowering urge to scoff in his face. Dream or not, I’ve always enjoyed Solas’ character. I, instead, give my ‘I doooon’t believe you’ face and cross my arms. “Isn’t that something a dream could and would say? Or tell me to slap myself to prove that I’m not dreaming?”

 

He gives me another small huff/laugh, adjusting his stance. I make a note of the change and, remembering my lessons, mimic him. “I am sorry, but even if it would prove that you are, in fact, in the waking world, I have no interest in striking you.” I give him a raspberry and a snotty upturning of my nose.

 

“Well, dream or not, you said it’s past breakfast?” He nods shallowly. “Then let’s go to the tavern and see if they have anything.”

 

“I am afraid not, Ser Fannon. I came to wake you and to deliver you to the Seeker of Truth upstairs. She and the Commander have been organizing the troops from a room in the back.” Solas hands over my cover blanket from yesterday, and my little fastener pin. “I am to see to Lady Trevelyan after that.”

 

I sigh softly, and nod, before fixing myself up as much as I can. I grab my purse and swing it around me. I reach inside for my hairbrush and smooth my mane back into place before setting off for the upstairs. Least this damn dream gave me my purse and items to look partially human.

 

Just as I make it to the top of the stairs, I realize that I _really_ need to pee. Crap! Thedas is pretty medieval; that means they would have chamber pots. How do I use one?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oc's bad humor plus kindness equals new friend?

**_ Thedas is pretty medieval; that means they would have chamber pots. How do I use one? _ **

 

 

A few more people are mulling around upstairs than yesterday, and I stop two Chantry sisters/mothers. The first I politely ask that if she sees Cassie, to tell her I am up and on my way. The other I asked, while many, many shades red, where to use the restroom at. I said ‘restroom’ ‘bathroom’ and even ‘water closet’ but she didn’t understand me until I blurted out that I had to ‘pee’. Whelp, there goes my attempt at manners, based on her wide eyes and blush. She gave me directions to the far-right wall on the outside of the Chantry. There were a number of pots lining the wall and the one I looked in was empty. I thus began my _numerous_ attempts, and I will not describe the, also, numerous ways I failed. Still, got the job done without peeing myself. I quickly realized I was going to have to start carrying soap in this dream as I rubbed my hands in the snow a few times. Ickkkk.

 

Heading back in, I walk directly to the War Room and knock twice. The door jerks open, making me flinch a little, and Cullen’s grumpy face turns into one of mild shock. “Hello. It seems you have finally arisen from the dead, Serah Sooth-Sayer,” he says while trying to hold his poker face, but his eyes sparkle, I swear. I huff up as I blush and point my finger at his nose again.

 

“Watch it, Ser Sass. I know where you live, _and_ I happen to know where a Druffalo lives outside of Haven. Would be an easy thing to fill your boots up with-”

 

“You know even trivial information as well?” asked Cassandra from behind him. Her hair was up in her usual style today. Full armor too, as she’s looking over the map on the War Table. Not looking at me, which I am quietly appreciating. I start to walk in, sticking my chin up a touch as I pass a still mostly poker-faced Cullen. I briefly take notice that he is also in full gear; both have probably already been out tending to people. At least the dream is following closer to the actual story now. I move around to the side the Herald normally stands on and curl my toes in my boot for some kinetic-ness.

 

“So, what can I help with today, Lady Seeker?” War Room, titles shall be used.

 

“Any and all information you can give us.” She commands before she looks up and holy _shit_ , is that a piercing look. I flinch, curling up some and partially give her my right shoulder. Her eyes widen for a second before looking back down.

 

Lo and behold, the shy guy to the rescue. Cullen steps to my left side and points at places on the map. “Here is the general map of Haven,” Cullen’s voice is softer, and sexy, and calm. Someone had studied me last night, though with the current absence of Leilana, I’m not sure who. “We ask that you give us any information that might be helpful to us or the people of Haven.” He turns his face towards me, but not fully, while his lips pull up just a touch. Well, guess he would have experience calming frightened people. He had been a _good_ Templar.

 

I blow a breath up to my nose, popped my neck, and tried to let the tension roll out of me. “First, Chancellor Roderick is going to be a pain in the a…” I pink up as I catch myself. Cullen nods and Cassandra doesn’t move. “Well, a pain. He’s going to panic and think only a new Divine is going to be able to handle this. He’ll ignore you and Leliana, Cassandra,” she looks up now, more neutral faced, “which makes no sense seeing how the two of you have more experience than him a dozen times over. People… people are upset and will continue to be upset.” I rub my left arm through my blanket. “I’m sorry, I should have tried to explain myself better last night. I’ve… seen this, the Breach, Inquisition, all of this before. It’s easy for me to not worry about, but for you it’s fresh. I’ll try to be more tactful in going forward. I am sorry about Justina.” I wait, hoping I give off my sincerity to her.

 

Cassandra stares me down for a bit. “Thank you, Fannon.” She says. I reach across the table, offering a handshake. She takes it, but I still get an undercurrent of ‘not happy’ from her.

 

I fluff up my blanket and start again. “He’s going to get backers and make it hell for the Inquisition. He’ll get word to Oasis’ mothers and can get all of you labeled as heretics.”

 

“Stop a moment, Fannon,” Oh yesssss, Cullen. Say my name. I cover my back shivers with popping my elbow as I look at him. “I think I understand that word, but could you explain it.”

 

I blink, confused. “Which one?”

 

“Hell. I think you mean to say we will have a difficult time, but we do not have such a word in our Common,” Cassandra answers, seeming to be slightly curious herself.

 

“Ohhhhh,” I smack the heel of my palm to my forehead. “That’s right; no wonder I keep getting strange looks when I use it. Hell is the place where the bad people of my family’s religion go after they die. It’s a place normally depicted as being on fire, where our version of demons torment the bad souls for all time. The opposite for us is Heaven, where the good souls go to enjoy their afterlives and to praise the Lord for all eternity. Actually, several of the religions of my home country have some version of a bad soul place and good soul place. I guess… Hell would be the Void or the Fade in Thedas?” I muse the last part mostly to myself.

 

“Different religious practices (“JESUS!” I holler as Leliana pops out from behind a wall that opens) could be fascinating to compare at a later time.” She keeps talking as I have my hand thrown out over the War Table and the other clutching my heart. Cullen kinda jumped when I did and both he and Cassandra look worried as I try to calm down. “You certainly scare easily.”

 

“Yes, _Nightingale_ , I scare dang easy.” A few more pants and I am mostly under control. Standing straight again, I wave my hand up towards the mountains more. “Up here is the first vision I have of Roderick. I’m sure he’s in Haven now. I think it might be best if taking care of him fell with Leliana, especially before Trevelyan wakes up. Everyone is going to believe she is the culprit, and that’s very understandable. Roderick isn’t willing to listen to other people’s opinions though. He’s likely already made up his mind on what he’s going to do.” I peek over to Leliana as she stands at the head of the table. Hm, interesting placement for her; ploy or no ploy? “And everyone has skeletons in their closets that they would like to keep hidden.”

 

She looks at me and her lip curls just a touch. “That seems like a very appropriate saying.”

 

I grin a little and shrug. “It’s a common one for us. Everyone has secrets, and some secrets can be used against people.”

 

“You hold many secrets, Fannon. Do you plan to use them?” Cassandra drops casually.

 

I blink at her and give a semi-disgusted and semi-disbelieving scowl. “No! That’s not my nature! I like helping people. I’m a teacher for people who can’t make it in my society’s normal education systems. People who have been bullied, learn different ways, or on the verge of quitting school all together. I’m sorry I know your secrets, but I’m not going to blackmail you. Hell, I didn’t want to bring them up in the first place, but I needed you guys to believe me.”

 

“Yes, your disposition is rather obvious,” I give a mild anger pout in Leliana’s smug direction.

 

“Did you figure me out in 5 minutes or 10, Spymaster?” She just gave me a wispy secret-keeping smile. “I cooouullddd mention a certain freelance assassin and how he teased you rather mercilessly.” I stick my tongue out just a tiny bit. The smile stayed in place.

 

“Ok,” I clap my hands together and try to focus. “Things I know: Smaller rifts are going to start opening, or have already, all along the mountain.” I look along the map and tried to remember where they were. I point especially to that area of the frozen river with the small cabins along the banks. I trace it back to the bridge I remember and circle the area. “This is an area that’s going to be kinda heavy with demons and one rift. I’m going to suggest that you have Solas go study this one if he’s willing. I remember it being the closest one to Haven, but I could be wrong.” Cullen leans away to scribble on a piece of parchment. “Oh, word of extra caution; The Breach already is, or will soon start, spitting out pieces of Fade rocks, along with demons. It seems to happen most when the Breach… flashes? Inform everyone that when this happens, to check their surroundings and seek shelter if they can. Those rocks are heavy and fast enough to take out bridges.” I make a point to look at them all to show how serious the matter is. “It may get to the point where they just start flying out without warning.” Looking at a map like this vs my inventory was weird; I’m running my fingers all over just trying to orient myself. “There’s… an old mine somewhere?” I look to them all for answers.

 

Leliana steps around and to my right side and adjusts the map. “There is an old mine that leads up through the mountain. We believe its exit comes up somewhere to the east of the Temple of Ashes.” I must be making some kind of face because she’s actually watching me as she speaks.

 

Grr, I’m about to have to look silly. “Ok, I’m having a hard time remembering the directions, so I’m going to start… moving,” I do a shoulder/neck wiggle as I step back from the table. I close my eyes and let myself wander back to my most recent character: Bastion the mage Qunari. (Made especially for Dorian, of course). I pantomime climbing up the ladders, holding my palms out for the first batch of demons, the extra side room where you can get Cassandra a new shield, the next group of demons and so on. I come outside, looking down at the bodies of the scouts that went ahead. Eyes still closed, I say, “The scouts that Leliana sends that direction need to be careful. The mine is going to be crawling with wraiths and shades.” Bastion wanders down the slope, looking for elfroot on the way, until we come across that one rift with those fucking terrors. “Past the mine is a rift. It’s… I’m not sure how to describe it. We would call it patio-like, but it’s this slightly raised stone wall. Two statues nearby and that rift is really nasty. It has terror demons and I _hate_ those. From that rift, there is quite a bit of going down to reach the temple.” I let my flailing arms down, and open my eyes, glad to see them all not completely staring at me like a goldfish. Leliana is writing down a small note, Casandra is moving some markers, and Cullen is blinking rapidly in confusion, but being a gentleman and staring at the table rather than me.

 

I guess that curiosity got to him, because he turns towards me again. “Is that how you conduct your visions?” I suck my lips in, but I can still feel the smile I’m trying to hide.

 

“No, that’s just one of the ways I can help myself remember. Like I mentioned, I talk with my hands.” I make little alligator chomp chomps at him as I step back to the table. He’s still in a bit of wonder at me. “I see things… well, I _saw_ things in my sleep. It looks like passing through the rift into Thedas, or some other reason I can’t currently think of, has made it so I see nothing in my dreams. Which sucks, because even without visions, my dreams tended to be amazing.” (Like this current one of me talking to all of you!)

 

“This information will be helpful,” Leliana rolled up her note into a small tube and tucked it into her glove. “We would certainly be thankful for any other you have.”

 

“In the immediate sense, I know you guys are going to need supplies for weapons. If someone who is good with plotting new points on a map doesn’t mind following me, I can-”

 

“I do not think it wise to let you wander from Haven.” Cassie, the ever-present harsh voice of caution. I sigh softly and nod just a touch; I understand, I am still suspicious.

 

“At least not until we have you in some proper clothes,” Leliana chimes in as she pulls my blanket aside and runs her eyes over my pjs. I blush and huff playfully, snapping the blanket out of her reach and sticking my nose in the air for fun. I look back to see a bit of light coming from her eyes. “You mentioned you were at home when you were sucked through a rift?”

 

“Yes. I had gotten off of work and had put on my sleeping clothes, pjs, to relax for the night. Let me warn everyone; the Fade smells disgusting.” I grab onto my throat as my gag reflex tries to start up.

 

“To actually step foot into the Fade…” Leliana sound parts amazed and cautious. Cassie was curling her nose… and I caught Cullen staring. He quickly turned back to the map.

 

“Yeahhhh and being chased by a wraaaaaith. And then a giant… actually, you probably wouldn’t believe me,” I wave to dismiss the attempt at ‘dripping sarcasm’. No need to mention that Elvhen God yet… might bring him up to Solas and-

 

A sharp knock on the door, an ‘enter’ from Casandra, and a number of maids? come in with their lead being a true ‘Boss Grandma’ looking type. Two are human ladies and the other three elves flank her. “Pardons, messeres, but you said to alert you when Messere Montilyet had arrived and you wish (I’d like to point out that I suck my bottom lip in and squeal while starting to bounce at this moment) for a few seamstresses? Whose measurements are we taking, messeres?” And damn, is she a Boss Granny, because she doesn’t pay one lick of attention to me while the younger ladies look… a mix of surprised and disturbed by me. Rather glad I can’t see Cullen and Cassie’s reactions to my bouncing.

 

“Thank you. Please have Lady Montilyet shown in.” Cassandra starts setting up a few more bits of parchment.

 

“The measurement will be for this woman,” Leliana nods in my direction, “once she has a chance to meet our Ambassador. Please give us five minutes,” Leliana requests, offering up a soft smile to the women. Hello, Madam Bard, I see you there under those piercing eyes.

 

As the women move to the side, I see her… and Oh. Mygod! She’s TINYYY!! I bet if I stood on my tiptoes, I could rest my chin on her head. That rich dark tone of her skin is brightened up a bit in her face, likely from the cold. Bits of her black hair are peeking out from underneath the flurry hat with sides for her ears. Those gray eyes were perfectly presented with the dark eyeshadow she was wearing, and that sheen of lip color. She has a heavy coat draped, perfectly smooth I might add, over her left arm. She’s wearing those wonderful ruffles, though in person, it’s an even harsher gold. Dolled to a T, she even walks likes she knows everyone is watching for her to catch her toe on something. I can see bags by her feet, but they are being grabbed and taken away as she crosses into the room.

 

“Everyone, I am happy to introduce Lady Josephine Montilyet, former Ambassador from Antiva to Orlais. I called her here in case the worst of the worst happened, and it has.” Leliana spoke calmly as she crossed part way to Josie, touching her upper arm as the spy used her other hand to sweep out to the others. “This is Commander Cullen. He was called upon to man a small army in the Divine’s defense during the Conclave. Many of our men died… along with our most Holy.” The room becomes intensely somber and I am left rubbing my arm and twisting my boot toes against each other. “Lady Cassandra Pentaghast has been the other hand of the Divine,” and then she turned to me. I flush up, standing a bit straighter. Oh god, why am I being introduced, dream?! I haven’t done anything yet… and I’m in my motherflipping PJS!!

 

“This is Ser Dana Fannon. She has survived being pulled through a rift, stepping physically into the Fade, and seems to have some knowledge of the past, present, and future. We are going to be keeping her a secret to anyone she does not mention by name.” A meaningful look passes between Nightingale and a floored Josie, who eventually nods.

 

“That is… quite… forgive me, but that sounds unbelievable.” Josie steps towards me, giving her coat to Leliana as she removes her hat. Her hair is up in its intricate patterns again. “Is there, by chance, something that you can tell me?”

 

I grin and cross closer, and maybe I lorded my height just a tiny bit. “Well, I’ve been telling everyone what I know in private. If you don’t mind a hug,” which would in theory get me close enough to her ear.

 

She blinks a few times, I can only guess at my daring boldness. But then she smiles that ‘charm the nobles out of their last coin’ smile and offers up her hug. I squeal a little and latch on to her, even using my back and hips to pick up the woman to squeeze. She laughs breathy as I set her down and whisper, “If you sell anymore of the Montilyet land, your family will be destitute. You are going to hear about problems in restarting your family’s naval fleet. We’ll fix that once you get the news.” I squeeze her once more after feeling her stiffen up and let go of her. Her stunned expression is only visible for a few moments before her charms come into play.

 

“Thank you, Lady Fannon,” she grins a little wider at my nose wrinkle. “I have to say, any future information you have that will aid my family would be _most_ appreciated.” I’m a little surprised she gave any clues about her family to the others. Leliana is going to pull at her later I’m sure.

 

“Yvette needs a big sister kick in the butt to actually sit down and paint rather than talking about it. You end up paying her tutors with no work to show for it. You’re good with your words, Josie, but siblings just need a good, hard ear pull sometimes.” I grin as she hides some gentle giggles behind her hand. “Oh, Josie! I would like your help later, after you get settled, and the hole in the sky gets fixed, which it willlll,” I turn behind me to see the other three. Casandra stays grim-faced, Leliana in her mildly amused neutral, and Cullen gives me ‘I don’t really believe that’ lip curl. “I can’t read or write in Common; our alphabets look completely different.”

 

“Truly? I would like to see that,” Cassie comments off hand.

 

I wiggle my purse into an easier to reach inside position and pull out one of my pens. I move around the table and pull one of the spare pieces of parchment towards me. I print out my first and last name, and then the 26 letters of the English alphabet. I click my pen back and I push the piece into the center of the table, expecting them to look at it. Instead, all of them are watching my right hand.

 

“What is that?!” Josephine sounds super excited. I look down at my dime a dozen black pen… until I remember all the quills scattered around us.

 

“OH!! Shoot, I should have explained! I’m so sorry!” I give her that pen and dig out for a few of my others. Two others are clickers, the last two are pull off the cap and start writing. “We made these ages ago. We had quills like Thedas, but we have different chemicals and plants than I _think_ Thedas has. We have them and cooking methods that allow us to develop this material,” I tap on each pen as the advisors play with them; Cullen drops his after clicking it. “I confess, I don’t know _how_ they are made. They are so plentiful now that we can buy 20 for a few dollars… crap, what would the conversion rate to copper be?” I chew on the top of my thumb. Josephine has taken the pen, slowly clicked it, and is making lines on her own piece of parchment.

 

“It’s so smooth,” she shook the pen over the paper, “and no spilled ink! This could make writing so much faster!” Is this a pen version of fangasm? I grin at the Antivan. Both Leliana and Cassie are making marks on their own parchment.

 

“It is a pity you do not know how to make these. I can imagine these would be very popular all over Thedas,” Cassie comments as she shoves the cap back on, breaking it, and would have stabbed herself if not for her gloves. I still hiss in worry and reach for her hand to make sure. I pop her pen back into my purse, just in case. I have to wonder if the discomfort? I see on her face is from the almost stabbing of the pen or me grabbing her.

 

“Well, I should still have 15. We can have someone crack a couple of them open and try to work out how they work… OH, Varric! He’s like the merchant prince of the Marches. He’s sure to know someone good with fiddly work.” I clap my hands once in happiness as I reach out to take the rest of the pens back.

 

I do catch the quick looks of conferencing that are shot between Leliana and everyone else while I’m fixing my bag. “You have certainly given us quite a bit to think about, Ser Fannon. Though, we should not keep you any longer from the seamstresses.” Rather gentle dismissal, I do say. Josephine is still looking longingly at my purse.

 

“Alright. I shall go out now. After the seamstresses I’ll head back downstairs, if that’s ok?” Cassie and Leliana nod, while Cullen has turned his attention to a few other papers that had been under the Haven map. Reports?

 

“Yes, and after they have gotten an outfit prepared for you, I will have a scout escort you wherever around Haven you wish to go.” Leliana hands Josie a few of her own reports but is still giving me her attention. So, I might not be on her immediate death list. Yeah!

 

“Nice; I’d look like a creep if I have one of you big wigs following me.” I get that ‘what did she just mean’ look again. “Sorry, one of our phrases again. In older times, like 400-ish years ago, the wealthy people would wear wigs. The bigger and fancier, the more money you were displaying. If Haven saw one of you escorting me, it’d get a lot of attention and pin me as someone of interest.”

 

“Something we should try to avoid at all costs at this time,” Cullen finished off for me, and I gave a ‘um-hm’ along with a nod. I wave once as I step through… **

 

Right into the boney clutches of Mrs. Bartlett and her pinning, tugging, ‘Please Ser, hold still’ minions. I was nursing at least three pin marks on my right wrist alone when they seem satisfied with their measurements. They were all surprised when I turned down the ugly, though more expensive, leather in favor of the more colorful, less expensive, cloth palates. What surprised me was when they said that I could have at least one outdoor outfit for me ready before dinner, even though I asked for something with pants rather than an easy dress. Despite my injuries, and maybe a few harsh words screamed in my head, I sincerely thanked them for their time. I still fast-walked back down to the dungeon though.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

** The four moved around the War Table, quiet for the moment, until Josephine could no longer resist. “Truly? She was in the Fade?” she exclaimed in a breathy voice, wonder filling the question.

 

“That is what she has claimed,” Leliana responded gently as she passed a number of papers over to the Ambassador before standing by her side.

 

“She has made a _number_ of claims,” Cassandra half snarled, trying to roll some of her tension and frustration out of her back and shoulders to continue working.

 

“Many of which she has also offered support for. It has been… very disconcerting, to say the least.” The Commander added, looking towards the door with anticipation on his face. Like the rotund woman would come back in as if by magic.

 

“Where is she from? I do not recognize that accent of hers. She _must_ be a noble from somewhere. She is… very well fed.” Josephine blushed at the exaggerated gasp Leliana gave her.

 

“Josie! I’m almost surprised at you.” Leliana grinned and nudged the Antivan gently with her hip.

 

“She says that she is a teacher in her country, and that she believed that Thedas was only in her visions.” Cullen remarked, finally showing all his confusion over the idea of someone outside of the known map.

 

“Truly? She is not native to _any_ part of Thedas?!” Josie was in a tizzy as she wrote down a small page worth of notes over the information, direct and indirect from their limited encounter.

 

“ _She claims_!” Cassandra stressed again, arms crossing to keep her hands from slamming into the table.

 

“She is… remarkably forward, isn’t she?” Josie looked to the others for confirmation, watching as a red tint over took the Commander’s cheeks.

 

“Very. She was rather insistent about hugging _me_ , as well, last night.” Cullen looked down at the table, not wanting to reveal how that hug had helped him take in her information at the time.

 

“Yes, she was hugging Ser Tethras last night as well. She certainly seems _endowed_ _in places_ to make such things pleasant.” Leliana remarked with level indifference.

 

Josie gave her own gasp while Cullen stammered in disbelief. “What!? I would nev- The idea that- She was-”

  
“Tell me, Josie, would you not agree after your encounter?” Leliana turned her teasing side to Josephine, who joined Cullen in blushing embarrassment, though said nothing to counter Leliana’s assessment. Cassandra continued to fume under the playful tones this _meeting_ was heading towards.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Egypt is not the only thing with De-nile *cricket cricket* Sooth-Sayer tries to invent and Cassandra just might snap.

**_ Despite my injuries, and maybe a few harsh words screamed in my head, I sincerely thanked them for their time. I still fast-walked back down to the dungeon though. _ **

 

 

Solas is on the stool from yesterday, waving his hands around Trevelyan’s head. This time it’s a yellow spell, and the elf mage is partially scowling. “Still nothing, _Hahren_?” His eyebrows relax a touch as I cross over to my once again right-side-up cot. I sit myself in the middle to not tip over and pull out my notebook and a clicky pen. I am now thinking of listing everything I know about Dragon Age and organizing them. You’d think I’d have something more ‘action-packed’ to do in a dream about Thedas.

 

“I visited her last night before finding you. She was much more difficult to find as she is unconscious, not dreaming. Not to mention that I felt that her normal ties to the Fade are quite weak. However, my wards have kept her mind protected from demons. We simply must wait for her to recover.” He moved from her head to her hand. The glow was definitely better, but there was a trembling going through the fingers themselves.

 

“I wish I could see in the Fade. I normally have very detailed dreams. Colors everywhere, me getting to save the day and protect people.” I pout as I start making a list of the different categories by Dragon Age info will go in. Hm, more I think about it, there’s more and more chances to do extra good and some to go horrible.

 

“Indeed; dreaming can be one of the purest expressions of our minds. It does not surprise me that you dream of yourself as a hero. You were rather quick to put yourself inbetween the Commander and Seeker and I.” Solas stands up and moves away from the Herald, wearing a very mild look of disappointment. “Are you confined to the dungeon, Fannon?” Ohhh, only last name. Getting more comfortable with me?

 

“Not exactly. Casandra is worried about me wandering off, but where am I going to go?” I give him an exacerbated look to which his eyes show off some amusement. “Leliana says that I can go out once my new outfit is ready… crap! I forgot to ask for soap.” I huddle up on myself. “Probably stink to high heaven.”

 

“That you are worried about such a thing puts you well above many of the others in town.” Solas’ nose curled up some and I’m back to wondering how elven senses are different from humans. I catch myself, literally inhaling air and opening my mouth to ask, by slapping my hand over my mouth. His eyes widen a smidgen at my action, but the left corner of his mouth pulls a bit. “I am to assume you have questions about something, though, since you just stopped yourself, I am also going to assume you believe they might be offensive.” Cue me reaching behind me for my hair and twisting it. “I believe I understand. You said there are no elves in your land. You are curious about them?”

 

“Really curious. But it’s damn rude on my part to be asking things like, do elves have a stronger sense of hearing or smell than humans?” Twisting and curling, my hair even gets stuck on my pinkie for a second.

 

“Such questions could be rude, if the other party was forced to answer them. However, I can understand your curiosity, and I believe you would ask such questions in the pursuit of further knowledge. You certainly seem like one who does their best to not be malicious by intent. How about we agree to discuss the differences between elves and humans after the Breach is sealed?”

 

“Elvhen too?” And boom! I blew his mind; I think, considering both eyebrows skyrocket up his forehead. “The immortal elves? I remember you making a passing comment about how the elves have changed from the Elvhen you see in the Fade. Please?” My legs curl over each other at the knee and I clasp my hands together in the classic, ‘Pleaseeeee’ position.

 

“You are certainly a curious one,” Solas muses as he scratches a small spot on his neck.

 

“Hello Pot, I’m Kettle,” I gigglesnort as he gives me a ‘what?’ face. “A saying. Used when we compare two things or people that are very similar, such as how black a pot and kettle are. I know you are just as curious about the world as I am, so don’t try to pretend otherwise, _Hahren_.”

 

He gives me an amused lip curl, though we both turn when the door to the dungeon opens. Cassandra approaches him, and with far more civil grace than she had last night.

 

“You requested the chance to study a rift up close, to see if you could find a way to close them. Fannon has given the location of one of them and has even mentioned to send you there.” Both turn to face me; Cassie neutral, Solas curious. My nose goes into my notebook and I’m humming softly to take myself out of the conversation.

 

“It would be appreciated, Lady Pentaghast,” Solas nods his head down slightly.

 

I peek up, just a touch. “He’s not going alone, is he? Amazing mage or not, he could get overwhelmed while studying.” The only, maybe, clue I had that Solas liked the comment was his index finger twitching on his staff.

 

“Don’t you _know?”_ Cassie, Cassie, Cassie; sneering does not go well with you.

 

“I do; I’m just making sure you know he’s worth protecting, mage or not.” I have to clear my throat. That had been a touch harsh coming from me.

 

Cassandra bares her teeth a touch, but Solas quickly moves to soothe her. “I am afraid I must ask for some assistance, Lady Pentaghast. It would indeed be difficult to study unknowns like the rifts if I have to constantly watch my back. I am not sure who you might be able to spare-”

 

“I know a man with a very accurate crossbow,” I come completely out of my notebook with a grin. Cassandra ‘ughs’ perfectly and Solas’ finger twitches again.

 

“We will get you a few guards, Solas. Follow me,” Cassandra turned on her heel and left. Solas gave me a goodbye nod as he left.

  


Have you ever just sat down and tried to pull up the littlest details of something that you did for fun to explain to another person? I have done it in bits and pieces before. I was used to explaining turns of phrase, different rules of games, and other things to my Asian students. Explaining the culture differences between my home country and those that I taught in. Now, though, I was making lists of people I know some very personal information of and literal world changing events in Thedas. I keep hoping to hear some ‘montage’ music play and get my lists done faster, but nope. Dream wants me to write out every.single.detail. UGHHHHH!!!

 

 I take a second pen out of my bag and chew it. Throughout my time working, I’m humming or singing under my breath. The Herald twitches more when I get to _Phantom_ and I get stuck on singing _Angel of Music_. For awhile, apparently, because a few different people pop their heads in from down at the far end of the hallway. I always wave.

 

I am through two full pages on just what I know on Varric, having covered all of the Origins characters and most of DA 2’s, when the seamstresses arrive with my new outfit. Josie and Leilana were with them too, both looking over and making new notes.

 

“Lady Fannon,” my nose wrinkles at Josie’s greeting. A ‘Lady’ doesn’t cuss every two seconds, Josie dear. “I understand that you arrived at Haven almost as soon as the rift left you on the mountain. You only have the clothes on your back and your bag?” She dips her quill into her ink well, though I think I catch a longing look to the pen in my hand.

 

“Yes, though now I have a nice outfit,” I grin as I hold said garment on my lap. The pants are triple layered pine green cloth with buttons going up the outsides of my thighs. No zippers in Thedas, I guess. The inner tunic is a pale blue while the outer layer is the same color as my pants. No sleeves on the other part, but it’d drape down to my ankles, it looks like. Lots of buttons on the outside, too. I’d say it’s a similar design to the hunter’s coat of a rogue Inquisitor, just no armor or leather patterns. The same color blue made a waist scarf to slip things into since no pockets in the pants. Wait, when were pockets invented? Crap, something to Google when I wake up. I never remember though.

 

“Still, it is my understanding,” she throws a very quick look toward Leliana, who is likely pretending to not be listening, “that you have been helpful since arriving. Is there anything else we can do for you?”

 

Well, I not usually one to ask for things. Especially because I know that the Inquisition is in its founding stages… butttt… “Is there any way I can have some soap? I’m used to showering, um bathing, daily. I can stretch that out to every other day or so, but I definitely need soap to wash my hands after… well, using the pot.” Oh, dear lord, did I just try to make a joke?

 

Both of the ladies look up at me, Josie allowing the confusion of my request pass over her face. I closed my notes and put the two pens back into my bag. “My culture stresses the need for everyone to be clean. We have a huge market of ‘smelling good’ items, not just soap. I could… well… hm,” I rub my chin as I try to think of a way to explain germs… then I think I need to think of a way to explain how we found germs… and then to explain the whole idea of science and ARGGG SHUT.UP.BRAIN. “Well, it’s a bit of a long story. Best saved for a later date. But, if I could have a bucket of water and soap, I would really appreciate it,” cue hungry growling stomach, which I quickly cover with my hands. My face lights up and Leliana cracks a small smirk. “And a snack, please.”

 

Leliana left with the seamstresses, but Josie stayed behind to badger me about things I need. Even as I ate my snack, fruits and veggies (Well, wouldn’t my parents be impressed of their picky daughter. Hate the taste, but damn, am I starved) she won’t let up. I finally appease her by asking for underclothes, which leads to a rather excited plea from her for me to explain our different underwears. After I politely shoo everyone out of the dungeon and give myself a ‘sponge’ bath, feeling much better before dressing myself in my new outfit. It’s easily the best fitting outfit I have ever had. Of course, I’ve never had something tailored to me before. I loop my bag around again, fold up my blanket to cram it in said purse, fuss with my hair, put my new soap into one of my outside purse pockets, and head upstairs.

 

Upstairs was much busier now than even this morning. Chantry sisters/mothers/ whoever the fuck, were praying with a number of civilians. A few injured soldiers were on blankets on the floor in Lady V’s corner. The groans and cries of pain make me stiffen some, but I am able to weave through the crowd and knock on Josie’s door. A quick ‘Come in’ followed and I stepped in.

 

Damn, can Josie work! There are foot high stacks of paper reports on the two corners of her desk, with a three foot stack of books on the floor. Her quill is working at lightning speed as she signs off on three reports from the other visitors. After each is signed, they bolt out the door, making me press myself tight against the corner next to the monster parts desk. I think I catch the tiniest breath of relief from the Ambassador before she turns her attention to me. “Lady Fannon, that outfit is very becoming on you. To what do I owe the pleasure?” All Ambassador already, I see.

 

“My Lady Josephine Montilyet, you have got to stop with the Lady business. I assure you, I am not a Lady, by any definition of the word. I have no title, and my manners can leave something to be desired.” I give my mischievous face as I place my hands on her desk and lean in just slightly. “Don’t send any Orlesian people my way; I’ll end up tearing them a fucking new one.” I beam as she reddens a touch and coughs into her hand. “Kidding, Josie.” I lean away and wink. “I would need some extra lessons on ‘The Game’, but my manners aren’t that bad.”

 

She looks relieved for a split second before she pulls out a few papers. “I have sent out a request for the seamstresses to supply at least three pairs of undergarments, including breast bands and slip tunics with panties. I have also ordered two more outfits-”

 

“Whoa, Josie. I don’t need anything else right now. Haven is and _is going_ to continue to be stretched pretty thin for a bit longer.” I smile and pat the left stack of papers. “You’ve got plenty on your hands. I was actually looking for Leliana. She said she would have a map person escort me around the outside of Haven. I know where a few things are that can help out.”

 

“Lad-” I raise my eyebrow, “Ser Fannon, I assure you, we have the resources to provide you with at least two more outfits. Leliana was pushing for you to also have an armor set-”

 

“Oh _heck_ no!” I snort through my nose and wave the idea off. “I can’t fight! Maybe if I sat on someone, I could keep them down, but other than that,” She looks torn between laughing at my joke and be horrified that I’m openly talking about my squishiness. “Just keep up the soap and let me borrow a fire to dry out my clothes and I’ll be fine.” Especially if I find that one abandoned cabin where the notes Adan wants are. “Thank you for thinking of me, Ambassador. Any chance you know where Leilana is, though?” I am itching to help out in this dream.

 

“Leliana was out by the Tavern the last time I saw her. I will walk you,” she said as she immediately started standing.

 

“No, nono, Josie, it’s okay. You’ve got so much to take care of; no one is as good at mediating as you,” I’m waving my hands to shoo off the idea. No way was I going to take Josephine away from taking care of the Inquisition.

 

She turned on the charm, giving me a megawatt smile, and the usher out motion. “I assure you, Fannon, a quick walk outside will in no way take away from getting Haven in a better place. I learned long ago that, no matter how much work you have to do, there is always time for a short breath of air.” I was still a bit cringey about interrupting her and followed a few steps behind her as we set off.

 

 Stepping outside for the first time in what I guess was 24 hours was a trip… literally. I caught my damn boot toe on one of the loose stones at the top of the stairs. Luckily a passing soldier, bringing a message to Josie actually, caught me by the elbow and steadied me. Omg feet, seriously? I also realized, during the time Josie was reading previously mentioned note, that I wasn’t cold in my new outfit. Maybe it was because the wind was much calmer today, but it was much better. Until my ears protested; then I took my hair down and flattened it to the sides of my face. It took me a second to recognize that Josie’s look of wonder was over my hair. I stared down at my toes, flattening my already super flat hair.

 

“I did not realize it was so long! It’s beautiful, Fannon.” Josephine says and I look back up, blushing. My hair is one of the very few things I like about my appearance.

 

“Thanks, Josie. Just wish I could get it to style. Where I come from, we have gels and things that can have some people’s hair straight up. Mine is just too thick for those things to work.” We are walking side by side now. The tavern is a city block or block and a half away and it won’t take long. “Best I can do is a braid that doubles as rope.” I grin and loop my finger in the air to ‘draw’ her curls. She smiles back.

 

“Oh, I know. Sometimes hair is just not worth the trouble it likes to cause. Ah, there she is.” Leliana was coming out of the tavern, getting handed the same three reports that Josie had. Even though we came up on her side, she was quick to notice new people.

 

“Is there something I can help with?” She didn’t even look! Damn spymaster.

 

“Leilana, Ser Fannon said something about an escort for outside of Haven?” Josie posed softly.

 

“Yes, I have someone in mind,” she gave one last flourish of her quill and turned to us. “However, it will be dark soon.” Her eyes flashed to mine directly, before continuing, letting me know she was addressing me while not focusing on me. “We will let you be escorted tomorrow, Fannon?” I nod; not a biggie, I can keep working on my notebook.

 

“Not a problem, Nightingale. How’s everything going up the mountain?”

 

A wicked smirk came to her lips and her arms crossed behind her back. “So far everything is as you have said. Solas, Varric and a few soldiers found the rift you mentioned. They were attacked in waves, ranging from every bell to half bell. I have received reports that they will be returning before too long. The mine, however, I am going to wait until early morning.” I personally didn’t believe that for a second but couldn’t really think of why she’d lie. “The rocks falling from the Breach, however, have started. Thanks to your warning, there have been a few lives saved.” I beam at the news and nod.

 

“Glad to hear it. If you two will excuse me, I’ll let you two get back to business. I want to see this tavern,” I pat the wall semi-lovingly, “in person.” Both ladies nod as I head inside, starting to talk about whose aid they can get.

 

I’m instantly hit with the smell of alcohol, though I can’t tell you if it’s mead or ale or whatever was served in the old ages. Wait, can dreams make up smells? I’ll have to google that later. There are 6 long tables total inside with 3 two-person tables along the walls. Most of the people at the tables are either soldiers eating at lightning speed or passed out drunk civilians. The fire is nice and warm, making me feel a little too hot. Rolling up my sleeves to my elbows, I head over to Flissa and ask about drinking water. She gives me a nice sized tankard full but raises her eyebrows when I decline a tank of brew. Not like I have a copper or silver to my name. I try to sneak a sniff in; it smells and looks drinkable, but I’ll have to find a way to boil my water… why am I planning in advance in a fucking dreaaaaam?!

 

I take the table that is furthest out of the way of everyone else. Hell, I even get a corner! I start by actually tearing out the pages I have already completed and make a new page to organizing all the past characters and events into what their effects are in this new game… time…dream.

 

Varric, starting off from my old notes, was taken into custody of Cassandra not long before the Conclave. He denies knowing where Hawke is, but this is a lie. Would it be better to have Varric confess Hawke’s location before reaching Skyhold? I make a little star next to the question and write it into my ‘Possible changes to timeline’ section.

 

The darkness of evening rolls in fast, and more people come in. Flissa was kind enough to keep my water full, though I was willing to bet I was the only one drinking it. I spent _way_ too long thinking about the different germs and bugs that lived in unfiltered water in the past. Course I tend to think way too long and hard on a number of topics. Anxiety/paranoia run in my family. If it was from the lake, would the germs be dead from freezing?

 

I am getting to some of my favorite Inquisition characters in my notes when a tired voice calls out, “Songbird.” I don’t even have to look up before the grin starts on my face. When I _do_ look up I see a semi-haggard Varric crossing over to me. I clear off my hazardous piles of notes from the table and put them into their sections of the notebook. He pulls out the other chair before sinking, hard, into it with a sigh. “Rough day, Varric?” My sympathy goes out to him; I was the one to nudge him into being enlisted. His arms are dirt-covered, and I can see three long scratches that are covered in slowly drying elfroot paste. Another puddle of the paste is on his left side, from his eyebrow to the corner of his lip.

 

“Nah, easy walk in the park compared to some of our times in Kirkwall, right?” He winks with his good eye. I’m grinning even harder, tapping my feet. He’s being a sweetie and including me in Kirkwall. Any wonder why Varric racks in the top three companions in the polls I’ve read?

 

“True. In Kirkwall, we had rebel mages, crazy Templars, hyped up Qunari, _along_ with demons. So far, just the demons.” I feel my nose crinkle and chew my lip as he groans dramatically, resting his forehead on the table.

 

“You just had to say ‘so far’, didn’t you?” After a few moments, he gives another sigh and leans back up. “A certain elf told me that he had heard of someone having a very accurate crossbow, and somehow that got me taken along with him and Seeker to a damn demon asshole. Now,” of course his face, of which I would call exacerbated, makes me snort hard up my nose, and start giggling into the back of my notebook, “I have to wonder who told him such a thing. And why.” He’s at least smiling as he talks, kicking up his leg so his ankle rests on his knee.

 

“Oh, no, Dear Master Tethras. I don’t have a cluHEHehehHE,” I smack myself with my notes, snorting hard again. I bite my lip to stop myself from going into the ‘hard laugh’ that I hate.

 

“Oh man, you must have the worst Wicked Grace face alive,” he chuckles low, shaking his head.

 

“Very likely. I can’t lie to save my life, it seems. Sorry, Varric. I’ve just always seen you being really effective against demons. I knew Solas was going to need some back up while studying the rift. Are you really mad at me?” I catch a quick eye twitch, likely because my voice always goes softer and higher when I ask those questions. Are you mad? Did I say something wrong? Am I in trouble? Those kinds of questions seem to dominate my life.

 

“Nah, Songbird. Not mad at all. If Chuckles can figure out what those things are and how to fix ‘em, Binaca and I are happy to be of service. So, what can you tell me about what’s going on? Sure, you’ve shared a lot with Seeker and Curly, but you’ve got to have some other juicy details.”

 

“Hm…” I tap the corner of the notebook to my lips, scanning the ceiling above us to think of things I can share. “Well, I couldn’t tell you the time of wheeen, since I see things happen in an order, but I can’t see how much time passes between. But I have seen a very well-known surface dwarf smith make her way to the Frostbacks,” Varric’s eyes blink once in surprise, but quickly after, his face relaxes, and an easy smile pulls up. “I would love to meet her; she might be able to duplicate my pens. Lady Ambassador is a real fan,” I slid my cap off pen to him. He looks it over, holding it to the nearby candle. He then pulled out his own travel journal, his is wrapped in dark red leather with Kirkwall and Hawke’s crests burned into them. He whistles low as he starts to pen something in the corner of one of the pages.

 

“Nice! I can definitely see why people would like these. How do you make these?” He takes off his glove to feel it directly, his eyebrows pulling in at the material.

 

“I’m afraid I don’t know. I know for us, it’s made very cheaply because that kind of material, we call it plastic, is so plentiful. I don’t know if you guys would have the materials or chemistry needed to make those. I do know of a different kind of pen that’s like a mix between my pen and your quills.” I flip to the last page of my notebook, tearing it out and set it between us. I pull on my limited fountain pen knowledge, part of it’s from Looney Tunes for goodness sakes, and draw the outside of the pen. I hear a small huff from Varric and I ‘glared’. “Hey, I’m a teacher, not an artist.” Saying so allows him to give a short bark of a laugh, slapping his hand to his ankle.

 

“Oh, I can definitely agree with that.” He says while still snickering. I reach over and play shove his shoulder. He, in return, plays up the pain.

 

I do my best to explain how the pen works by unscrewing one of my clickers and going over the pieces inside. Doing so, we realize that Thedas doesn’t have screws yet, and our conversation moves in that direction first. We have been in an in-depth conversation about screws, (better than nails, but I don’t have a clue how to create them. Varric writes a note in the middle of his journal) manual screwdrivers (new note, same area) and the idea of electric screwdrivers (that note goes into the far back of his journal) when Solas walks into the tavern. I immediately wave him over, calling out ‘Hahren’ as I do. Was that a confused/startled look? Have I seen that face on Solas in game before?

 

Solas is almost as scuffed up as Varric, though at least his face is safe. Dirt covered sleeves, his right one needing a patch job, and long red welts line his left ear down his neck to his collarbone. I quickly get up, snag an empty chair, and set it down at our table. Won’t be a lot of elbow room, but I’ve got to get Solas in on the inventing… at least, the talk of inventing.

 

“Hey, Chuckles. Been awhile, hasn’t it? You wouldn’t believe the shit that Songbird’s country makes. Explain the e-lec-trick screwdriver again.” Varric welcomes Solas before sliding our two pictures towards him. His are far better, and I’m only _describing_ the thing to him.

 

“We have a way of storing electrical charges. I think it might be similar to your electric runes. We call them batteries. So these batteries are connected to machines through some wires. These wires are connected to the motor, or the gears that turn the screwdriver bit.” I point out the different outward pieces mentioned. Solas is listening quietly, eyes flying all over the designs. “The bit spins at a fast rate,” I switch our notes and bring up Varric amazing drawing of a traditional screw, “into the head of the screw. Because of the twists that line the screw, it sinks into the wood or other material, holding the two pieces in place.”

 

Solas taps his fingers along the notes as I turn back to Varric. “So, to answer your question, Varric, screws are better than nails because nails are easier to pull out.” I make a fast, crappy, doodle of a claw hammer. “If I get this wedge underneath the nail’s head, I can yank it out. Hell, if I was to nail two planks of wood together, in an X,” I make the motion with my arms, “shape, someone could plant their feet on the lower board, and rip the upper board free.”

 

“Only if that person is the size of Qunari, Fanny,” He laughs hard at my shudder of disgust at the name. Course, talking about large Qunari has me mentally squealing… which leads to a lightbulb moment. I grab my notebook and write a quick one about getting to The Iron Bull sooner.

 

I shut the notebook and grin before flicking my cap off pen across the table, bopping Varric’s bare knuckles. “Get someone to create screws and I’ll bet you the clothes off my back even the biggest Qunari wouldn’t be able to pull them apart.” The Merchant Prince smirks at me and flicks the pen back, catching my pinkie. I ham up the pain while he laughs.

 

“This is amazing,” said Solas quietly as he looked over our different doodles and written text, frowning over mine. “I must confess, I would be quite interested in seeing such things brought to life,” Solas remarks, reaching between us and taking the pen, looking at it before looking at our doodles. “This is your country replacement for the quill?” He asks, while Varric stands up and gives a quick, “You two talk. I’ll get us some dinner.”

 

“Varric, I don’t have coin… and he’s not going to listen to me,” I drop my face into my palm as I lean on my elbow toward Solas. “Yes, and Varric and I are trying to work out a way to get something similar to Thedas.” I grab the clicky pen from under the mess of doodles and take it apart again for him to see. “I have been around pens all my life, but I’ve never had to worry about how to make them. Varric thinks that if we can get it,” I point to three different doodles of fountain pen prototypes, “working, he’d make about as much coin as he did from the Deep Roads.”

 

“ _We’d_ make as much, Songbird. I not conniving enough to take you off the deal. They’re your pens,” calls Varric as he makes his way slowly back to us with a tray. Three nice hot bowls of stew, some raw greens (bluhhhh) and three nice crusty loaves of bread are presented to Solas and I. We each take our bowls, I take Varric’s and put it in his spot, while the dwarf goes back for a drink. I sigh as I look down at my food. “How am I going to pay this back?” I mutter under my breath.

 

“Perhaps by continuing to give other information? Your warning about Fade rocks falling from the sky saved at least two soldiers,” I look up Solas’ sage eyes. “The Breach flashed while we were handling three demons at the rift. All of us moved back from the fight, using a collapsed wall as a shield. One of the pieces of rock struck right where the two very young humans had been.” Solas’ eyes softened at the edges; I’ll take an eye smile of his any day. “Of course, if this ‘pen’ is as successful as Master Tethras hopes, it stands to reason he would have no problem forwarding the money to you for now in such fashion.” Was that sass? Hmmm, Solas’s sass isn’t nearly as easy to read as Varric’s or Cullen’s. I’ll have to wait for more clues.

 

“Course, it could just be the scoundrel of Kirkwall is secretly a nice guy~,” I singsong as Varric comes back with a tankard for him and Solas. Solas stares at it for a moment before going back to his greens.

 

“Madam, I will not have you slander my name with such lies.” Varric gives his haughty tone and I just grin. “Not hungry, Songbird?” He’s looking as I poke at my veggies.

 

“It’s not that… I have, unfortunately, been a very picky eater all my life. Veggies aren’t my favorite.” I pick up the piece, dunk it in the soup for a second, before shoving it whole in my mouth and chomping down. I have to take a hard chug of water after. I keep my eyes down now; so many people have turned up their noses at me for ‘not eating like an adult’.

 

“If you would like, I might know of a few recipes that could help you stomach them easily. Perhaps you might even come to enjoy them someday.” Solas offers as between blows to his soup.

 

“You’d be a miracle worker, _Hahren_ , but please and thank you.”

 

The three of us eat and continue working on the screw doodles. I pull out my multi-tool that has a flat head and Phillip screw head to it. Cue a long dive into how the tool is put together and what other small tools could be added. Solas takes a few sheets of paper from me and adds his own amazing art skill to the mix. It’s only when an exhausted Cassie comes in to ask for Solas to check on the Herald again that we call an end to our doodle party and head out.

 

Solas immediately heads for the Chantry while I dawdle with Varric, walking with him to the ‘nicer’ tents are. “Still camping out in the dungeon, Songbird?”

 

“I don’t see the problem. Sure, it lacks in wall decorations, some nice flowers, company,” I grin as he rolls his eyes and we stop next to his tent to face each other. “Varric, I was pulled out of my home, through the damn Fade, and into a completely different country that I had no idea _actually_ existed. Forgive me for not having the supplies to live outside at the moment. I hope to fix that tomorrow when I get escorted around. I am helpful, Seeker and Nightingale don’t kill me. Win-Win.”

 

“Just don’t let them push you too hard. Seems to me that you’ll be a big help in the future. Don’t let them treat you like a prisoner for doing nothing wrong.” He pats me on the arm. He then sighs, cause I guess my face is projecting the ‘please give me hug’ vibe, and he opens his arms. “Alright, get in here.” I beam and quickly snuggle, trying to gently maneuver his face to my shoulder and not my ta-tas. Kind of awkward otherwise. “You’re about as bad as Daisy.” I boop my cheek to the crown of his head and pull back. He certainly doesn’t look upset about my huggy nature.

 

“Thanks for being open, Varric. I’m sure the Breach, and me, have thrown you for a loop. Course, you always seemed to be one to find a silver lining in things.”

 

He shrugs carefree and his eyes smile. “When you run around with Hawke, you learn pretty quick to take the good with the bad.”

 

“Especially with all the undead, demons, blood mages, murderous Templars, every two cent-hm-copper bandit coming out to attack you every night.” I counted them off on my fingers.

 

He joins me, spreading out both gloved hands. “Darkspawn in the Deep Roads,”

 

“Which you would hate even without the Darkspawn,” I quip.

 

 He winks before continuing, “Murderous brothers, pirates who turn over new leaves after stealing a culture’s priced book, dealing with said culture’s pissed of citizens, giant spiders, slavers,”

 

“Crazy ass lyrium that turns people into crazy ass people,” I reach out for his unopened fingers now. Saying that makes me realize that there is something else I can warn him about. “There’s going to be more of the last one, Varric.” His eyes widen, taking a moment to discern if I’m kidding or not, before letting loose a series of ‘Shits’, angry and… scared?

 

“Any _more_ bad news?!” I wince at the tone he takes, though I don’t blame him. I’ve told him a lot of upsetting shit; not his fault that I’m thin skinned.

 

He notices though, and with a long breath in and out of his nose, he pats my elbow again. “Easy, Fan. Sorry; I shouldn’t have taken that out on you.”

 

I shake my head. “It’s alright, Varric. I’m dropping a lot of stuff on you. Most of it isn’t stuff you want to hear.”

 

“Sweetheart, you could tell me that the Empress of Orlais was after my neck for plagiarism and that still shouldn’t be enough to snap at you. You’re trying to warn us about the bad shit about to go down… but you don’t seem too worried about it.”

 

Once again, I am too damn easy to read. “It’s… not that I’m _not_ worried. I hate the red stuff… actually I don’t like lyrium much in general,” for Titanic reasons, “I just know there is not much we can do at this point. As someone from Kirkwall, who knows what the stuff does to people, you should be the one to warn everyone about it. You and Cullen… also, not sure if it’s possible, but someone needs to get rid of the Merideth statue for good, if someone already hasn’t.” He gives me a mild curious look. “My ‘eyes’ haven’t been in Kirkwall since _fucking Blondie_ ,” I strain around the name. Oh, how Anders _pissed_ me the fuck off!!! “Blew up the Chantry and the fight in Gallows.”

 

I’m not sure, but I think I might have seen a small sag in his shoulders.  “She’s not gone, but we’ve been trying to figure out what to do with her. I’ll send a couple of letters after the hole in the sky is all plugged up to get some hustle on it.”

 

I nod hard once. “Well, I’d say we are out of unfortunate secrets today. Tomorrow?”

 

He gives a half-lipped, tired smile and nods. “Rather work on those ideas of yours instead. Now you be a good girl, Songbird, and go straight back to your dungeon.”

 

I give him a full-on raspberry, which gets him to huff laugh once, spinning on my heel and walking off.

 

Solas is still down there, watching over Trevelyan, though now Casandra is glaring at him from behind. Ugh, I really disliked ‘pre-hole-is-sky-closed-for-first-time’ Cassie. So ready to jump down throats. Buttttt, self, Justina was an important person to Cassie and I need to continue my attempts at understanding and accepting how others feel. “Evening Cassandra, Solas.” I move around the cot, try to not see either of their faces as I touched the unconscious woman’s wrist. “Hi, Lady Trevelyan. I know Solas is taking good care of you, but I hope you wake up soon.” I patted the shaking limb gently and unhunch myself. Solas is working, eyebrows twitching so I can’t read him, but Cassie looks… confused. I give her a small chin nod as I look for my pjs. They are now nicely folded at the end of my cot, and freshly _washed_. Looking back to the two, I ask, “Who do I need to thank for washing my clothes?”

 

 Surprise, surprise Cassandra looks down to Solas! The mage takes no direct notice, but answers. “It is a simple spell; one that comes in quite handy on the battlefield.

 

Brain activating… conclusion reached!

 

“OH!” I snap my fingers as my ‘Aha’ goes off. “That’s why. I kept having visions of you lot in fights, with blood and demon goo all over you, but in like the next fight, you are all clean! Oh my god,” I smack myself with my palm. “That makes so much sense now… Lord, I can not tell you how bad that bothered me.” I grin as I sit on my cot, hugging my clothes. It really had. My mind tries to put wayyyy too much science into fantasy video games. Like how does the Dragonborn not tear the shit out of their throats while doing a thum? I realize that I’ve been flailing about without actually thanking the mage. “Oh, and thank you, Solas. That was very kind of you.” I get a slight nod.

 

Just is time for Cassie to ruin the good mood. “Is there nothing else you can do to wake her sooner?” Ugh! Grumpy Cassie sucks. I can imagine a similar thought is probably running through Solas’ head, but I see no outward signs.

 

“If I attempt to rush her recovery, it would more likely delay it instead. This is a magic not seen of before. I could not tell you the full damage that it has caused her. She might wake up with a fractured mind.” I think I catch a tightness in his voice at the end. I tense as Cassandra moves forward with purpose.

 

“If she is the only one you can fix the hole in the sky, we need her now!”

 

“And if I do as you command, she may be of no use at all.” Lo and behold, mad Solas. Almost as scary as mad Cullen, as he stands up and addresses Cassie to her face.

 

Stupid me; why do I feel the need to chime in? “Cassandra, Solas is doing the best he-”

 

“What do you know of his abilities?” Her attention falls on me again, full force. I freeze, wide eyed and stiff as she goes on. “You _claim_ to have fallen through a rift, but we have no proof of your claims. For all you know of us, you could simply be a very believable spy.” Don’t get mad; she’s just hurting and taking it out the wrong way. Doesn’t mean I can help the wetness pooling at the corners of my eyes. My body is entering the stage of ‘Do I fight, flee or cry?’

 

“We should _not_ trust you, but apparently all of your secrets are _believable_ enough for the others to not be worried. I, however, will not be letting my guard down so easily.”

 

My ‘oh so rarely seen’ temper is flaring up. I am _not_ a liar. The logical side of my brain, however, is screaming that Cassandra is actually a nice woman, in a rough patch, and now is not the time to defend myself.

 

I stand up, take a long breath, clear my throat, clench my hands into fists at my hips, and completely don’t listen to my logic. “Cassandra. Allegra. Portia. Calogera. Filomena. Pentaghast.” I start with a flat tone, watching her eye twitch. “I know you are hurting. I am sorry you are. That, however, does _not_ give you the right to attack the people who are _trying_ to help. No one in Thedas is powerful enough to stop every bad thing from happening. Even a determined, amazing woman like yourself. You need to accept that no one, Queen Elissa, Hawke or even the Divine in all of her power, is infallible. If you want more _proof_ of my claims, I can give it to you, but it _will_ hurt. I _don’t want_ to do it.” Cassandra is glaring at me, blurry through my watery vision. Solas has stepped out of her direct path, but his eyes jerk between the two of us.

 

Rather than calming like I hoped, Cassandra moves to stand right in front of me. I have to yell at myself to keep my eyes open as she does. I don’t want to fight, damnit! “Go on then. Tell me; prove to me beyond a shadow that you know me.”

 

I glare through my tears and sniffles. Fuck, why does she have to keep pushing? I grit my teeth, sucking a breath through them, before letting it out in a stammering burst. “Do you really want to do this now?” Please, just stop.

 

“Do.it.” She crossed her arms and moves into my bubble.

 

“Fine. Do you want to talk about your brother Anthony or the mage Regalyan?!”

 

She stumbles back like I hit her, which I might as well have. I can’t look; I turn and go towards the furthest cell on the right side. I keep my back to the two of them, sniffling as quietly as I can. Why am I always a slave to my emotions? I cry at the drop of a hat it seems like. I stay there even as I hear her boots clank up the steps and the slamming of the door. I rub my forearm over my eyes. Calm down damnit.

 

Footsteps behind make me rub my face harder. “There is no shame in your tears, _da’len_. You told Lady Cassandra that your information would be hurtful, and yet she pursued it.” Damn his sage voice. He makes me jump when he hooks his pinkie into mine, like we did in the Fade, and pulls me away from the cells. “I will not say as to whether she will believe you or not, but I think she will soon realize how her quick temper is more detrimental than helpful.” He stops me at my cot and I quickly let go of him to hug my pjs to my chest.

 

“You are still embarrassed.” That’s not really how you phrase a question Solas, I think as I nod. “You are a caring woman who feels deeply. You have indirectly known of us and the struggles we have and will likely continue to face.” He’s kneeling in front of me now, and I steal quick glances up from my pjs to let him know I’m listening. “I dare say that you have seen a number of us as friends,” I nod, “And you wish to take care of those around you,” another nod. “You wish to assure us at this pressing time. However, you can not make us believe. You can only express what you know and allow others time to accept it. I already have,” I look up as he gives me the tiniest ‘at ease’ smile and a chin bob. “The way you displayed your vision is like no version of the Fade I have seen.” I give him a half grin for his kind words.

 

“I will leave you for the night. Rest at ease, Fannon.”

 

“Are you coming to visit again?” I ask as he stands, tucking his staff into the back of his vest.

 

“I think it would be best if not tonight. Some peace would be best.”

 

“A black void isn’t all that peaceful for me, but okey doke.”

 

He gives me another chin bob goodbye, and soon after, I shrug off my nice outfit and snuggle into my jams. I pop my pills, look at my still not working phone and snuggle into the blankets. Someone has put a hot rock or something in them earlier cause soon my toes are sweating in my boots. Taking them off, I look once more to Trevelyan, whisper another good night to her, and wait for my meds to make my brain shut up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder: I (author and OC) can't read people well, so take whatever OC THINKS she sees in others with a grain of salt.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OC moves out of the Chantry, where there be dangers!

Waking up the next morning is a lot easier. Course, that brings up how many damn times I’m going to ‘wake’ up in this dream, because _I refuse to believe it’s not_!! No scholarly elf this time; just the smell of oatmeal and a few pieces of toast that was brought down by a rotating guard. Bland as it may be, I eat it down quick. After telling the guard that I needed some privacy, I take a fresh bucket from a servant and wash up completely in a dark corner of the dungeon. I braid my hair into a long rope before looping it into a bun. Takes a couple of hair ties, but I look decent. (I think; note to self, ask about mirrors and their expense.)

 

I’m setting my purse up for the day again, humming _I Dream of Jeanie_ from outta nowhere, just as the Herald’s breathing starts to change. I kneel by her cot, taking the anchor gently and give little taps to the back of the hand. “Lady Trevelyan?” a small moan. “Lady Trevelyan, can you wake up?” I get a few eyelid flickers but nothing besides that. I click my tongue over my teeth and head upstairs. It’s still fairly early it seems, as I run into a mostly dressed Cullen as he pulls on his mantle and red tunic. “Commander,” I call, which brings him up short, just outside the war room. “Cullen, I think she might wake up soon. Where are Lady Pentaghast and Leliana?” I definitely remember those two being in the damn room when ‘I’ woke up. Good cop/bad cop anyone?

 

“Are you sure?” He jerks up quick, _mildly_ imposing when in full armor. I suck in my lip and shake my head a little.

 

“I don’t know for sure, but this is the most she’s moved in days. Is Solas around? He could tell if her mind is still in the Fade.” I frown as Cullen shakes his head, feeling my shoulders slump.

 

“I am afraid not. He and a small team left before first light. It seems the activity of the demons is growing.   We may be overrun soon.”

 

“We WON’T,” I wince at the echo my raised voice has caused. Looking around for any possible audience, I rest my hand on his armored forearm. “Haven _won’t_ be overrun, Cullen, but please, _please_ be careful.”

 

“How can you be so sure of things?” Cullen reaches over and cups his hand over mine, looking a little lost. I squeeze him a little harder before reaching up with my other hand to boop him on his forehead.

 

“I’d be a piss-poor Sooth-Sayer if I wasn’t sure of what I saw.” I grin and wrinkle up my nose. He gives that little disbelieving scoff, but the scar side of his lip pulls just a touch up. “Now, before you go,” I drop my hand and put both of them on my hips. “Got supplies? If today _is_ the day she wakes up, it’s going to be a long one.”

 

“Ser Fannon, I am more than capable of-”

 

“Commander, I do believe you missed breakfast,” comes the smooth French accent of Lady Leliana from the War Room. She is packing some kind of granola? bar in a wrap and hands it to him. He’s scowling, I snicker at the scowl, and Leliana is a cool as they come.

 

“Thank you, Sister Nightingale,” Cullen says through slightly clenched teeth as he moves to stuff the bar away.

 

“Nope, uh uh. You eat that as you walk, Mister. Missing breakfast can make a person super cranky. Not to mention all that exercise with no food might lead to cramps.” I call after him, grinning as he groans something like, ‘don’t need another mother’ before he shoves a piece of the bar in his mouth as he heads out. After a few moments, though, a worried whine creeps up my throat and I turn to Leliana. “Has demon activity really picked up?”

 

The damn Spymaster eyes me for a moment, through and through I’m sure. “It has. I sent my scouts out at the same time as Solas and Varric. I expect to hear from them within the hour. Are you worried?” I swear to all things holy and non, that she is sassing me.

 

“I’m not allowed to? Just because _I_ know we will be fine doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to worry. I am a worry wart by nature, and I am rather fond of the Commander, Solas, Varric and Cassandra.” Even if she likely can’t look at me without the urge to punch.

 

Her lips thin a touch while looking at me, and I give in by looking to the side. “Can I have my escort today? I just want to help out, Leliana.”

 

“Of course,” she responds before waving me toward the front of the Chantry. Urg, what is it about Leliana that gets my dander up? I had a really hard time interacting with her in all games, though Origins was much easier.

 

I’m fluffing up my outerwear as I spot two scouts looking over a book and a map by the door. I believe that elf is Charter, but the tiny dwarf woman is _definitely_ Lace Harding. DAWWWWWW!! I wanna smoosh her so muchhhh!! Wait… isn’t Harding supposed to be in the Hinterlands? Hmm. I reach over and draw Leliana up short before leaning down to whisper in her ear. “How much do they know? I _adore_ Lace.”

 

And there is that fucking face again! I do _not_ understand this look she keeps giving me. Her eyes narrow just a touch, but nothing else moves. No chewed lips, no thinning lips, no flares nostrils. This damn spy doesn’t give me shit that I can at least _try_ to read her…

 

Oh shit… Bull would have me by the balls (or female equivalent in this case) in three seconds flat. That’s… something I might need to plan for. Ughhh, more dream planning.

 

“They are two of my most trustworthy scouts. They know that you know a lot about this area. They believe you have been away since you were very young. They, however, do not know any of your gifts. You are simply someone who used to live in Haven.” I look skyward as I process the info. Seems reasonable, doable. I hm a confirmation and give her a nod.

 

I follow her the rest of the way, but I’m a tiny bit impatient in general. So, I offer my hand to Harding before Leliana can start on any introductions. “Good morning, ladies. I am Dana Fannon, Ser Fannon or Ms. Fannon would be appreciated. Thank you so much for escorting me around Haven today.” Harding blinks quickly for a moment, but smiles softly while taking my hand. After a quick shake, I offer it to Charter, who only gives me a nod instead. I grin and look to Leliana, noticing that both of the scouts do as well.

 

“Ser Fannon, this is Scout Harding and Scout Charter. While you are no longer a person of interest, it has been decided that it would be best if you do not wander too far from Haven. These ladies will help you document any resources that you remember.” Charter and Leliana were doing that fucking silent conversation shit that I hate, but at least Harding was paying attention to me.

 

“Thanks again, ladies. I promise, you can tie my legs up if I try running. I will _fail_ at running, but I give you the permission, just in case.” Lace smiles softly as she fans out a map with a few pieces of charcoal packed in some kind of artist’s wristband. I head off, knowing that I will be followed, but betting I won’t hear much from either of them.

 

First stop is the backs of the cabins to check on elfroot. Just so you know, elfroot up close has a very soft teal tint to the undersides of its leaves. Charter is the one to take a small knife and cut off the three topmost leaves. After a light bulb moment of ‘hey, we are going to need a shit ton of these; how about trying to farm them?’ leads me to asking Harding about the seeds. I start collecting them in my purse.

 

Running around the different cabins doesn’t take very long, and we are out in the training yard within the hour. I wander over to that mound of rocks that overlooks the lake in front of the smithy. Course, iron is not going to just jut out of the rock like in-game, though it’s still fairly easy to tell. Stripes of orange discoloration were confirmed by Charter to be iron. I beamed; yes, I was going to help out a shit ton then. Course, that also leaves me wondering why the iron looks so different? Actually, why does _anything_ look different to what I know from the game?

 

On second thought, don’t think about it.

 

Getting around the lake is hard; some areas are either full of ankle twisting rocks (I am going to _have_ to get an ankle brace. It hasn’t twidged this much in ages) or slippery ass ice. Both women are extremely patient with me, though Harding does ask once why I go the way I do? “Got to get everything I remember. We’re in this mess for the long-haul ladies,” I deliberately look to the Breach. “Least that’s what my gut tells me.

 

That dock in game? Turns out it’s there _and_ with an extra side ladder that we climb up. I jump and fall over, skinning my hands again, as _we_ scare a nearby ram. I am pretty sure I saw a quick smirk flash on Harding’s face, but I’ll allow it. Ms. Fan, chronic scaredy cat. Course, that doesn’t stop me from climbing up the rocks nearby, pointing out the minerals while debating with Charter on transporting some of the less healthy plants to Haven by their roots. We decide to table the idea if the seeds don’t work out and set off.

 

The girls voice concern about going into the thicker woods, but I am pretty sure I still know my way. Dense forest or no, we need the supplies, and that wood station… though now that I think about it, switchblade in hand to the poor root, couldn’t we just have one anywhere? I’m chewing that idea over, and my lip, when we break through to a small clearing. I just _barely_ stop a really loud gasp coming out as the druffalo graze nearby. I throw frantic eyes to my escorts, but both are calm. “Ladies, this is the closest I’ve ever been to a druffalo… are they nice?” I whisper from the right corner of my mouth, tensing as Harding gives a small tut of a laugh.

 

“Long as you don’t make any aggressive movements at them, they are fine.” Charter comments as I let out a relief sigh before pressing us forward. Course, now my nervous humming is starting up. I had been good about being quiet so far, but now I’ve got _Whistle While You Work_ coming out of me. Luckily, I really can’t whistle so as not to destroy any one’s eardrums. Harding is sly smiling more and more, but Charter is still quiet.

 

A few trees away, past the bison, is what I’m guessing is a more real world (HA) wood chopping station. And you know what? It looks a shit ton more like that Skyrim wood mill than Inquisition’s version. Chopping set ups for firewood are on the left side, with area for sharpening axes I think. Harnesses and ropes are in an aged-cloth-covered cove next to the stand-up blade in the center of a log luge? (I need to expand my vocabulary of wood work) A long set of gears, straps and hooks looks like it can be turned to ‘power’ the blade up and down. Everything is covered in leaves and ivy, though, besides the obvious snow. “Would this be handy~?” I ask to the tune, which finally breaks Harding. I give her a raspberry as she snickers softly, right up until something cold, wet and _big_ nudges my back/butt.

 

I whine a high note and look to the side for Charter, but she is looking at whatever has stuck its wet nose into my tush. “A druffalo, Ser.”

 

“It’s not going to headbutt me, is it?” I ask softly, still not moving, half holding my breath too as it is now _rubbing_ its nose into my clothes. Damnit, I am _not_ asking Solas to magic _mucus_ out of my outfit. That’s just a waste of his talents.

 

“I think this herd may have been previously domesticated. Owned druffalo are trained to respond to calls and whistles from their owners. I think your music is drawing them in.” Harding adds while doodling something on her third map. I suck in a deep breath and turn around slowly.

 

The one nuzzling me has smaller horns so I’m going to go with my world’s, no, _waking world’s,_ ideals and call it a girl. She butts my stomach before giving a gentle low. I reach up over the muzzle into the thick fur on her crown. OMG, she’s a sheep! Thick and wooly and hot! I even pick out a few sticks as I pet the wool, changing up my tune to _We can help our Cinderl-y,_ and lo, the others come closer. A tiny one, about a maybe 3-month-old cow size, came alongside the one I was petting, butting me in the leg.

 

“OHhhh, you both are so sweeeeet!” I cup my girl’s face and smoosh it and roll my hands over it like while I snuggle my babies. “Who’s a sweetie druffalo? Who’s a pretty baby? Yes, you are. Yes, you are!” I continue my baby talk and kissy faces right up to a loud _CRACK_ of the Breach. The biggest bull snorts hard, lows long and all the druffalo head for the thick tree line.

 

“Well, I do believe that’s fate’s cue for me to get busy again, huh?” I grin over to the ladies and I notice that even Charter gives me a mild happy face.

 

So, in-game, there are cliff and rocks to create the border of Haven. BEEP, wrong! There’s a drop off, a pretty steep drop-off, around the druffalo. It’s not very wide and I can see that there are areas where trees have been laid across the gaps to make bridges. Still, I’m going to keep the game perimeter in mind, just to make sure my escorts don’t get nervous.

 

Also, that gated off area from the wood-stand and the lost cabin? That _is_ there. I beam as I see the cabin and almost run for it, till I remember my job. “All along this ridge of rock should be iron. I’m going inside the cabin to see if anything important has been left.” My back shivers as I see them looking at each other. God, I would be a world better if I figured out how to do the silent communication shtick.

 

The boxes and crates that line the outside wall are there, and completely covered in snow. And so is the friggen door… fuck you, dream. I have to kick and shove a good bit of the snow away before trying the handle (Extra note to self, gloves). I have to dig my feet into the stone threshold and friggen yank the stuck door open. Rather thankful for the snow I cleared, cause the pile of it helped cushion my butt. Flexing my fingers, and popping my jammed pinkie, I step inside. It definitely looks like that person who wrote the notes Adan wants left in a big hurry. The living room has bundles of clothes, a tent, and cookware in tight piles next to where the fire blazer is. It’s definitely cold in here as I note the paintings from the game are nowhere in sight. Good, those things are misplaced in a tiny cabin. Well, not _tiny_ seeing as there’s really a second story to it. My quick jump attempt fails miserably, and I go back outside to look over the boxes again. I make a small set of stairs and _very carefully_ climb them enough to grab the ladder that was hanging over the edge. I move that into place before scoothing the boxes to the wall. I set all the leftover stuff on top of them.

 

I see the desk on the far end of the room, but it's slow going getting the short distance. Damn, it’s dark in here! Chewing my lip and looking behind me to check that certain scouts aren’t there, I grab my phone. After turning it back on, I shine the flashlight app down at my feet. Not too much on the desk, but I gather up every single paper I see and the small journal. Checking outside again, I quickly head into the nook for the kitchen and two cots. There are more papers where, in game, Adan’s notes were, but I still pool everything since _I can’t flippin read_. ARGGGG! What kind of dream makes it so the bookworm can’t read? Pocketing the phone, I creep slowly back outside. “Ladies, can I have some help?”  Charter is the one who moves over to me, while I can just catch Harding through the tree line. “I heard the alchemist Adan is looking for someone’s notes. Something about potions? I saw the top one,” I nod down to the only paper with a drawing on it. Luckily for me, it’s a drawing of a potion bottle (in-game version at least). “And I was hoping these might be them. I can’t read though.” Charter nods and takes all the papers from me, looking through them.

 

Now that I’m facing out the front door, I notice that one large collection of rocks that is covered in iron in game. It’s a half a block away now, but it cuts a fork in the trees just like the game. The right path, which is a real path, would lead back to the training yard. The left leads to thick grouping of trees which are sure to have elfroot. I head for the big rock though. I may have always had a thing for being ‘Queen of the Mountain.’

 

“Are you sure this is wise, Serah?” I pout as I look down to Harding. She’s got my purse over her shoulder as I’m about halfway up the rock grouping. I may suck at adventuring, but I _like_ doing it.

 

“There should be a nice clump of iron up here. Just checking. Anymore seeds, Ser Harding?” I ask as carefully scale all the way to the top. OHHHH, something different! Instead of _just_ a nice pool of iron, there is also a single Royal Elfroot. The purple on the ends of leaves is beautiful and so soft as I touch them. I don’t cut the leaves; I’ll leave that for Charter. Instead, I gently move the bottom ones aside and whoot at finding a single seed pod. I slip them into a separate pocket of my purse and wave down to the gathered ladies. “I was right! There’s a bit more iron, but even better: Royal Elfroot!”

 

And of course, cue my feet slipping and I am now sliding down the rock face!

 

“SHIT!” I holler as I put both hands behind my head, hissing as I roll side over side. I land on the ground, and two sets of hands help stop me. I pant through my adrenaline, staying on my side, favoring my left elbow. After a few more moments, I peek up to see two worried faces looking at me. “Ok, note to self: Congratulate self on nice supply finds, _after_ both feet are on the ground. Sound good?” Harding grins friendly and nods while Charter’s face softens again. As I stand up, I see a nice cut on my hand, and quickly avert my eyes. I do not do my own blood. “Either of you ladies have a bandage or that elfroot paste? I get sick with blood.”

 

“You are definitely not an everyday person then.” Harding remarks as she moves a small roll of bandages from her belt of treasures. Seriously, what is in all those different pockets?

 

“Well, in the country I have been living in, I’m called middle class. Someone who doesn’t work fields or trades, but not noble or rich. I teach. Our education system has, or at least, tries to get everyone from about 6 to 18 educated in math, reading, what not.” I look down as I feel her tie the last of the cloth, giving her a thank you.

 

“Yet you can’t read Common?” Charter asks softly while I fix myself up to be presentable.

 

“Well, we write our Common different. I hope that means that I can learn your writing system, but it’s not something to worry about right now.”

 

CRACK

 

All of us turn to look at the Breach. I notice several clumps of shadowed mass are raining down high in the mountains. “Shi-I mean shoot.” I rub my neck a little as I program myself back into public mode. “Ladies, I know of a few more things, but I think it’d be best if we head back into town, yes?” I don’t really wait for their confirmation as I set off.

 

Ughhhh, stupid elbow. I try waving it around to pop out the jammed air, but I can’t seem to get it. Course, those thoughts quickly flee as the Breach cracks again. Shit, it really is getting more frequent. Shouldn’t the Herald be-

 

And as if summoned by my thoughts, the Chantry doors open, and Cassandra is leading out the now awake Herald of Andraste. I do my best to speed over to them, trying to ignore the angry faces that are pointed towards her. I can see Cassandra talking while looking upwards.

 

Just as the Breach rips again, causing Trevelyan to half scream in pain and wonder, I get to her side. I hold her to me as we sink to our knees. I hug and shush her as the mark rips up her hand and arm. Cassandra is just as shocked to see me as Trevelyan, but I try not to look too fussed as I comfort the red-haired.

 

“Every time the Breach acts up, it directly affects the mark on your hand. There is a good chance it could kill you. Either from ripping your hand apart or maybe even a heart attack. Solas has been trying to treat it, but that is only so much one person can do.” The pain must be passing, because she’s pulled herself off my shoulder to look at me. I wink at her bewildered face and help us both up. I notice that this Herald has pale, pale blue eyes and that while standing, she’s around Leliana’s height. I brush her temporary armor to smarten her up.

 

“Fannon,” Oh, that is not a good tone to hear from Cassandra, but I keep my face on Trevelyan.

 

“This mark… what is it?” Oh, that is a nice voice. British VA lady version accent, but lower in tone, it seems.

 

“No one knows, but it was caused by the explosion at the Conclave. You need to focus on surviving for now. Keep close to Cassandra while you are heading to the mountain. She’s a damn fine fighter.” I grin, noticing the Seeker jerking up straight as I compliment her.

 

“Now, before you two head up there, here,” I say as I shove about 15 leaves of elfroot into Cassie’s hands. “In case the healing potions aren’t enough. I’m sure you have questions, Trevelyan,” the woman goes even more wide eyed at me now. “… They didn’t ask your name, did they?” I shouldn’t be surprised, but my personal set of manners always dictate that you introduce yourself, damnit. “Backing up. I am Dana Fannon. I was found on the mountain with you.”

 

“Marina Trevelyan.”

  
  
“Oh, now that name I love.” I notice Cassandra reaching her boiling point and I get back on task. “So, you have questions, but now isn’t the time.” I clap her shoulders and beam. “Have fun saving the world.” I wink and quickly move out of their way.

 

Both women look at me in wonder, but Cassandra’s nature kicks in and she leads the noble woman away.

 

“Now I have questions,” I epp and jump as Harding comments beside me. She’s looking up at me, long and hard. I sigh slightly; well, I can at least tell when _she’s_ judging me.

 

“It’s a story you need clearance from Sister Nightingale to hear. Now,” I turn to get both her and Charter’s attention. “Where does elfroot grow best?”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Change of view. The Herald walks into battle.

**_ The Herald’s POV _ **

  
  


Marina rolled her shoulders before placing her sword in its scabbard, the shield resting comfortably on her back. She brushed away more of the demon’s bits of flesh as the mage looked over the shades’ bodies. The reason became clear as he handed her a small amulet, which she took, feeling it pulse gently with magic. Even without the full training of a Templar, the gift to sense such magic was helpful.

 

“A lifeward amulet. This should help should my barriers be unable to protect you, Lady Trevelyan.” The elf offered politely, though Marina was once again startled and _frustrated_. She knew that while the dwarf and the elf had offered their names, no one had asked for hers. They had simply called her by her title, which none of them _should_ know. _How_ could these people she just met already know her? The Seeker certainly had not offered any information to them before or after the closing of the ‘rift’.

 

“So, I gotta ask: you a Marcher?” questioned the red-haired dwarf as the four of them made their way back down the small slope to the cabins currently ablaze.

 

“I was starting to believe you three knew _everything_ about me.” Marina confessed with a bit more bite than was necessary, but ever since meeting that other noble woman she had been tense about her identity.

 

“Nah, we have just been going off what Songbird told us.” The dwarf comments, and Marina notices a touch of hesitation pass through his normally upbeat features.

 

“The other noblewoman, I am _assuming_?” Marina turned to the small man, watching him fidget in growing discomfort at her scrutinizing look. “And none of you thought to _ask_ me directly for confirmation?” She turned her sharp eyes on them all. Pentaghast stood still, though the smallest of flinches told Marina that she was not above feeling the power of another’s glare. Solas looked apologetic at her snaps, the most common expression for any elf, but firm in his belief.  “I do not know _that_ woman. I have never seen her in my life. Not a single one of you have even asked my position, _why_ I was at the Conclave, or _any_ other information in your pursuit to charge me with this _heinous_ crime. I may very well be the last of my line, but I will not be quelled so _easily_.”

 

“Forgive us, Lady Trevelyan, but Ser Fannon’s evidence of her knowledge was quite extensive. You are correct, however; we should have conferenced with you directly.” Marina looked at the elf, and after a moment, nodded.

 

“I am Marina Clarice Trevelyan. I am the 5th child of Bann Trevelyan of Ostwick. The only remaining daughter of the Trevelyans, I was trained briefly to join the Templar order. Instead, I… I grew sympathetic toward the plight of mages. My brother, only a year older than me, gained his powers at 11 years old. I was here with him.” Marina closed her eyes for a few moments, before opening them to show that slivers of flint that had replaced them. “Forgive me, now is not the time. Please, continue to call me Trevelyan, but if I survive this, I want information on how I am known.” She turned in the snow and marched forward, back stiff though death seemed to be the only thing on the horizon.

 

The other three looked between them, before the dwarf sighed and marched forward. “Well, it’s kinda nice she doesn’t know _everything_.”

 

The rest of the journey to the forward camp was no less tense, but the four began to flow with each others’ fighting styles. Marina and Cassandra charged forward. Marina smashing with her shield more than swinging with her blade to balance the Seeker. The dwarf covers the outer demons while the mage keeps a strong barrier around the women inbetween bouts of lightning strikes. At the second rift, the noble tries to connect with the whirlpool of the Fade before countering the enemies. Between her companions and the few soldiers at the gate, she is about to pull it partially closed. Oddly, it seems to weaken the demons enough to dispatch them in a timelier manner. She hisses through the pain of the rift sealing completely, flexing the tightened muscles of her fingers and forearm.

 

“I am sorry, Lady Trevelyan,” Marina looked up to the polite voice of the rather talkative elf as he took to her right side. Cassandra commanded the opening of the gate and Solas walked with her. “I am unable to do anything else for the Mark.”

 

“I-I thank you for doing what you could until now, Solas. I doubt there is much anyone can do for such strange magic.” She rubbed up and down her arm, hoping to settle the twitching muscles.

 

“Yeah, Chuckles has been the only one to keep that thing from moving up your arm,” called Varric as he dug into a nearby supply chest. He handed two health potions and a lyrium bottle to Solas while holding a few sets of new gloves to Marina. “Saw that last cut to your right hand. Figured you might need some new ones.”

 

Marina nodded to the thoughtful dwarf, taking them and finding that the black pair were the best fit. Varric gave a self-satisfied smirk before nodding and walking to get back behind the Seeker. Marina’s eyes narrowed as she looked ahead, seeing the other woman from the dungeon in a heated argument with a brother. He looked to be the one in charge of the camp, and he was not pleased by the arrival of Lady Cassandra.

 

The woman from before attempted to lead the conversation, “Chancellor Roderick this is-”

 

“I know who she is.” Marina’s eyes narrowed at the obvious disgust in the man’s voice. She braced herself, moving the left side of her body to line with the man’s, the same position she would take to raise her shield.

 

“As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I _order_ you to take this murderess to Val Royeaux at once.” The man looked to the two women with smug satisfaction. He was obviously a worm, someone new to a position of power. One who had longed for it and was in the mindset to push everyone down with his thumb.

 

The Seeker was rightly furious with the man, stepping forward and baring her teeth. The man took half a step back before righting himself. Marina gave a half chuckle; truly a worm. She would bet 5 gold that the man had never drawn a sword in his life.

 

“Order me?! I was the Right Hand of The Most Holy, while you can only be called ‘Grand’ Chancellor because of the lack of others above you.”

 

“You are a thug, but one who is supposed to serve the Chantry as well as Justinia.” He snapped back.

 

“ _Divine_ Justinia.” Marina snarled at the man, watching him pale slightly. Oh, were you expecting a placid prisoner, you over fluffed bureaucrat? “May she rest at the side of the Maker.” The noble woman spoke gently, casting her eyes downward before snapping them back to the Chancellor.

 

“Yes, who you killed! You think wishing the safety of her soul redeems your actions?” He flinched as Marina stepped towards him, stopping only when the other red-haired woman held her hand out to her.

 

“I am a Trevelyan! We have served the Chantry and the Maker for generations! I would _never_ have attacked Most Holy; not for all the gold in Thedas! I am here to help dispatch that _monstrosity_ up there,” she growled, pointing her left hand to the swirling mess of Fade.

 

“You were the one to cause it to be!” Half-screamed the man as he tried to hold himself on the high ground.

 

“We have reason to believe that she did not.” All heads turned to the Orlesian woman as she spoke with calm conviction. “A witness of sorts. If Lady Trevelyan is able to close the Breach, it stands to reason that she was not the one to cause it. What villain would undo their work that has done so well?” Marina watched the fine lines at the woman’s eyes as she spoke. While the words rang with truth, there was something about this ‘witness’ that unsettled even this calm woman. “In any case, she is the only one who has any chance at all. The magic on her hand is obviously connected to the Breach. Nothing else is. We must do all in our power to fix things _now._ ”

 

“You are in no place to decide what we must and must not do.” Marina’s eyes flared at the man who refused to listen to the only voice of possible reason. Was he daft?

 

“I would most assuredly follow a fellow warrior’s orders versus a nasty little worm like you.” She gave a nasty smirk as the man tried to bolster himself up. “I am going to try to fix this problem, with or without _your_ permi-”

 

The noblewoman’s rant was cut off as the sky crackled again, sending the woman to her knees while she gave her best to cut the cry of pain that tried to pass her throat. The dwarf rested his hand on her shoulder and let her lean into his torso as a show of compassion. The pain started to ebb slowly, allowing her to hear bits and pieces of fresh arguing. She did catch when the other woman leaned into the Chancellor’s ear. Whatever she said stilled him, making his eyes go wide, and after a few more moments, he stepped away from the map table. Using the dwarf’s shoulder to help her stand, she cradled her arm as she addressed Pentaghast. “Well?”

 

“We have two options. The first is a direct charge into the valley. We take every available soldier and push. It would be the quickest way.” Cassandra pointed to the map, and Marina noticed it was indeed the quickest way, but a red circle drawn on the map caught her attention.

 

“The other is to take this mountain path,” the other woman leans in to point at the red circle. “Our witness helped us find and keep clear this route. However, we’ve lost contact with the scouts not long ago.” The woman looked to Cassandra, telling the warrior with her eyes that this news was not unexpected. “We are also waiting for one more raven. It should be-”

 

A caw from above had all heads turning and the red-head’s arm going up to let the raven settle on her. The piece of paper was drawn from its leg and opened on the table. Marina curled her lip up, not recognizing the parts with coded shorthand while just as confused as the last pieces.

 

“Hm… our witness says that if we take the mountain path we will have more soldiers for aid when we reach the temple. Also, to expect at least one very large demon.” Marina blinked and turned from the redhead to the snickering dwarf as he read over the note too.

 

“Songbird literally says ‘A hulking Pride demon. Leliana, get your bow’.” The man chuckled more as he looked to ‘Leliana’, whom Marina now understood to be a rogue.

 

“The noble woman from before? How can she possibly know these things?” Marina snapped and placed her hands on the hilt of her sword, gripping it tight.

 

“She claims to not be noble, although she also claims a number of other things. An explanation for her and our belief in her should wait though.” ‘Leliana’ answers before turning to her and Cassandra. “Thoughts?”  
  
The former to-be Templar warrior looked down at the map again, before looking around the assembled forces. There were not many, and those they had would likely die quickly if they pushed through the valley. She growled and blew a hard breath from her nose. She had already passed too many bodies on her way here. “The mountain path sounds best.”

 

“I… agree. If Fannon believes we will run into a Pride demon, it would be best if we save our strength and forces. Leliana, gather everyone you can. We will clear the way.” Cassandra ordered before resting a hand on the other woman’s shoulder. The two, obviously old friends and comrades, nodded and separated. An air of frustration still surrounded the Seeker though, as it had the last time she mentioned the name.

 

“Let’s get to it, then.” The dwarf agreed, rolling his shoulders and patting the handle of his ‘Bianca’ with two fingers. A pre-combat ritual likely, noted the noble woman as she moved to keep in step with Cassandra. Marina absently wondered if other Dwarven fighters did similar, or if others might have that type of crossbow.

 

Finding the scouts was easy enough. The path to them had indeed been cleared of enemies, and the group found a better weapon and shield for Trevelyan before exiting the mine. A cacophony of noise alerted them to the scouts and a large rift they were manning. The newly arrived terror demons were a new experience for Marina, but with a precise strike from Solas’ fireball, the last of them were sent back into the Fade while the warrior lifted her hand to pull the Rift close. She nearly had to take a knee again as the pain crossed through her chest. She tried smiling up at the elf’s praise, but a wave of vertigo had her leaning on a nearby wall.

 

“… The warning of the rift prepared us. Our last raven was killed, and we were preparing to send one of us to get word to you and Lady Leliana.” A woman’s voice came from one of the soldiers, though Marina wasn’t able to track who was speaking.

 

“Another thing we will have to thank Ser Fannon for.” Solas answered with a bit of an amused voice. Truly, Marina had never heard such a talkative elf. It was rather charming. This damn Fannon, though, was certainly impressing nearly everyone in this army of the Faithful. A disgruntled breath from Cassandra proved it was at least not everyone.

 

“The way back to the valley is clear. Find Sister Leliana and prepare for the last push.” Cassandra’s command was quickly followed by the sound of rushing boots on snow.

 

“You don’t look so good,” Marina would have given the dwarf a rather sarcastic response if she could. She instead settled for a smirk to answer him with.

 

“Here,” Cassandra’s hand came into her view, holding one of the leaves that the ‘Fannon’ had given to them. “Chewing on it will be settling. There is not much further to go.” Marina nodded and let her tongue curl the leaf into her mouth, chewing it while trying not to grimace at the bitter taste.

 

A few more moments and her head cleared enough for them to press on. Sliding down the ladders and passing the stairs, Marina gasped as she caught her first true look of the disaster. Giant stalagmites of gray and fade green sprang up into all directions. The green light within them seemed to pulse with a heartbeat and getting near one warmed her slightly. Worst, though, was the strong stench of charred flesh and hair. It was enough to make Marina spit up the elfroot leaf, and to run for a more secluded spot to become sick. The others looked equally ill, though all were able to halt their stomachs.

 

“There,” Cassandra pointed to a small area near a set of broken steps that would have led to a camp, “is where you walked out of the Fade.”

 

“I still… can’t believe it. No one has been physically in the Fade since the time the Tevinter Magisters corrupted the Golden City.” Marina caught a brief dismissive look on the elf’s face. Perhaps he believed in the Dalish ‘Creators’ then; hopefully, he could be swayed to Andraste.

 

“It may also be that you were not the only one.” Ah, that disgruntled tone could only mean the Fannon woman.

 

“Did this Fannon also fall from the Fade?” Marina wanted to scoff herself. This woman was starting to sound too good to be true.

 

“… She claims to.”

 

“Now, Seeker. With all the stuff happening just as she said it would, don’t you feel a little more inclined to believe her yet?” The dwarf-Varric, I must remember their names- gave a sly reply. It seemed he was very good at, and enjoyed, working Cassandra’s nerves. Though her attention was drawn more to ‘she said it would’, making the noblewoman wonder if this Fannon was a fortune teller.

 

“I… do not wish to speak of her now. We must press forward.” Cassandra continued, and Marina caught Varric’s own frustrated look to Solas. The elf simply shook his head and the two men followed.

 

Marina looked around the once beautiful building, remembering the last walk through it had been with Maxwell by her side. They had hoped to appear as a united front, warrior and mage together in harmony. She stilled and rested her hand on a crumbled wall, trying to rein in her emotions.

 

“Hey, Marinie.” She looked to the dwarf, noting once again the look of ‘trying to help’ on his face. Marina briefly wished she knew more about dwarves in general to understand if Varric was ‘typical’. “So, you were here with your mage brother?”

 

She stared at the man for a moment, before sighing and looking to the ruined wall. “Max. I was to be his protection while he worked with members of the Ostwick Circle to try to gain favor with The Divine… I wonder if his body was recovered…” Varric stayed by her side as her fist thumped against the wall. Twice more and she had calmed herself enough to press forward.

 

The others were waiting for her while overlooking the center of the ruins. Large pieces of stone and statues were _floating_ in the air, looking as if they were unable to decide if they wanted to join the Fade or not. Marina was studying the different ways that might led toward the mass of Green Fade crystals as Leliana and her troops arrived. They sweep away quickly, taking defensive positions while her group talked over the best way down. Varric pointed out that the best way is usually the simplest, so they followed what used to be a hallway.

 

A hiss of disgust and frustration came from Varric as they approached a section of the temple covered in red stones. “Andraste’s ass,” Both she and Cassandra turned at the obvious blaspheming. “I would have given up every piece of gold my books bring in for her to have been wrong about that.” He moved closer to the red stone, before turning to address them all. “This is red lyrium. Long story short, this is the shit that messed up Kirkwall. Don’t touch it!” For such a strong order from the previously cheerful and non-authoritative dwarf, Marina decided to heed it, nodding her understanding.

 

Then the voices started. To hear Divine Justinia again, knowing the woman was dead, obviously hurt the Seeker deeply. Marina wished to affirm her sympathies to the woman, but was sure they would not be appreciated at this time. And when the Fade showed her entering the space to attempt to rescue the Divine, Marina felt a blow to her gut. Had she truly been so close to preventing this catastrophe only for it to be pulled from her fingers?

 

She had no fire in her response when Cassandra questioned her involvement again, though Varric was quick to her defense. “Did you not just hear her run into the room, Seeker? Whoever had the Divine captive was surprised to see her! Think for a moment, let your emotions go and think.” Varric stressed as he actually pushed himself inbetween Marina and Cassandra. The gesture was appreciated, but unnecessary; Marina thought herself a fair match to the Seeker if it came to blows.

 

Solas took everyone’s attention back to the rift. It was closed at the moment, but not properly sealed. Marina took a deep breath and ran her thumb over the Mark, feeling it tingle and pulse as she did. This would likely be her one and only chance to correct the mistake of the shadow being. She might bring justice to the Divine, and Marina would give her life willingly to try.

 

She waited, sword in hand, for Cassandra’s go ahead, before stretching her hand up toward the crystals. The ribbon of Fade connected with her hand, sending blistering pain through her whole arm. She gritted her teeth as her heart began to race with the speed of a horse. With a fresh bang, beams of light spread out from the crystals. Each beam brought forth a demon, and there was indeed a single large Pride demon. She charged forward with a cry, aiming for the smaller shade demons. They circled around the rift, making it impossible now for her to reach up and close it.

 

The fight was going well; all the scouts along the edges aimed for the Pride beast while the ground troops chased after the shades. They all worked together as a well-oiled team, and while her heart might be trying to leave her chest, Marina felt cheer about completing her task. Shouts from Solas or Varric helped her dodge the attacks of the Pride demon, allowing her to charge forward with Cassandra. Marina aimed for the back of the creature’s knees, hoping that the damage to the tissue would eventually be enough to topple it.

 

She was unsure of who landed the final blow, but she had to scoop a tired Cassandra under her arms to pull them both away to safety. The two women looked at each other, Cassandra’s eyes pleading with Marina to deliver a miracle. Sore, exhausted and limping on her left leg, Marina moved without a word to the underside of the rift. Panting and feeling nearly feverish, she looked to the nearby elf mage. “Solas, please.”

 

The elf must have seen the look of peace on her face, for he looked sad for a moment, before nodding. He took to her side, right arm gentle around her back to brace her while his left took her wrist and pointed it up. The ribbon of Fade jumped from her hand and connected, sending her once again into brutal pain. This time she could not halt her screams as she put all of her will and strength into pulling the Maker-damned-hole shut.

 

A clap of thunder as the rift snapped shut, and Marina let out one small sigh of relief before sinking into the darkness.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Denial only gets you so far.

**_ Fannon POV _ **

  
  


I jump a bit from my gardening, looking up and toward the mountains. I pulled my large earphones down to my neck to watch as the Breach dissolved in on itself until it was nothing but the whirlpool in the sky. I dust my hands clean of the dirt I was digging through and walked to the front of my little alcove. Turns out elfroot grows best in areas with only partial sunlight, and I took over the little spot between the left side of the Chantry and that tree line. Charter, who’s been the guard for the last hour-ish, looks to me and then up to the Breach. It takes me a bit to notice that several others of the town have gathered in our area. Hell, some are looking at _me_ all curious like. I mentally shrug and focus on Charter. “Looks like it worked.” I grinned and threw a fist in the air, just as the air from the closed rift rushes through town. Charter ducks behind a tree, but I just close my eyes and let it whip past me. Damn, it’s cold, but knowing the cause of it warms me. I reach up to flatten the few stray ‘shorties’ hairs that come up on my crown before turning back around to work.

 

Flipping back on my earphones, and humming to my Linkin Park album, I grab my sharp stone up and crouch down to look over my work. So far, I have 5 rows of 5 groupings of seeds. I may have quietly sneaked a look into my Kindle while Charter and Harding were sending ravens to Leliana. In my ‘ _Foods: History and Recipes_ ´ book series, I found several examples of planting different foods. I went with the recommendation of tomato plants and buried three seeds together in a hole, spacing them out the length of my size 11 foot. I have enough seeds for eight rows of 5 plants. I’m hoping it’s a good enough start to what will likely be a huge demand for the plant. One elfroot per health potion and all those refills, I don’t think I want to do the actual math for how much I went through in game. Hell, I had used a mod to increase the number of bottles on hand.

 

I know Harding and Charter are getting more and more curious about me and my toys. They are still really agreeable to me, but I know they are going to report every little action I do to the others. I pop the clean end of the rock between my lips to hold it, grabbing the broom I have been using and sweeping away another line of snow. Twisting, and maybe dancing with my broom, I grin as a new raven arrives. Charter actually smiles at reading it, before she sets the raven on a nearby branch. I sneak (HA) over, setting my broom on the bird’s tree, my rock into the crook of the branch, and offer up my own arm. It takes a few kissy noises, but the bird hops up to look at me. They are fairly ugly up close, with the fluffed-up feathers around their head, and their red eyes. I haven’t had a lot of experience with handling birds, but I slowly raise my other hand, letting the bird know I was trying to pet it. It fluffed its wings, but still let me gently massage its head. I cooed at it, pushing the feathers up into a mohawk while smoothing down the feathers on the side of its head, before running a finger down its beak. I give a little squeal as it made a, what I’m going to take as, happy groan sound. “Oh, who’s a sweetie bird?” I scruff up its head a bit more before offering its old perch back. It hesitates, but a tongue click from Charter has it hopping up to its place.

 

“You seem to have a way with animals, Serah.” Charter comments as she reaches of to pet the bird too.

 

“You should see me with cats.” I wink, remembering the times I helped out with my humane society. All the tiny kittens using me as a climbing tree.

 

“Alright,” came a voice, quickly followed by dear Lace Harding coming into view through the continued amassed crowd, fixing her gloves. “That cabin in the woods is all set up for people, if Sister Leliana agrees.” She shakes her head as I cheer.

 

Yes, a nice warm house for the teacher! I wave at the ladies as I move back to my work.

  


 

 ** _Mix POVs_**  
  


The trek back to Haven in easier and more difficult in different ways. Cassandra looks back, seeing Cullen help transfer Trevelyan’s prone form from a soldier’s back to his own. The Commander had help from Solas to position the woman before the troops moved forward. A closed Breach meant that there were no new pockets of demons. The damage from the falling Fade, however, made getting back tricky. Solas was kind enough to levitate stone work over the bridge that was stuck and collapsed when she and the warrior crossed. The soldiers, who were better at watching the skies than she had been, were still at their stations. Varric had pulled out a ‘pen’ that Fannon had given him to deconstruct and was writing the events down.

 

Cassandra grit her teeth; the calm that had been permitted through Marina’s actions allowed her mind to travel to Fannon. The Seeker pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to tame a snarl that wanted to exit her throat. Those eyes, large and brown, brimming with tears while asking Cassandra to not push her. If Cassandra was to be reasonable, she would admit that those were the eyes of an innocent. A naïve, peaceful innocent at that. She had demanded nothing but the chance to prove herself. Her attempts at humor were poor, she did not understand personal space, and she was oblivious to the air of tension that had surrounded them since her arrival.

 

However, Cassandra concluded with her reasonable side, she was friendly. Shockingly so, given that she was under constant watch, whether she knew it or not. Her predictions were… also correct. Her knowledge of the past was what Cassandra found most unsettling, though Fannon have not gone into any detail about her brother or lover.

 

“Something on your mind, Seeker? You should be jumping for joy. The Breach is quiet, we didn’t lose many soldiers, and the prisoner is still alive for you to send to trial.” Cassandra bared her teeth at the dwarf. Despite his cheerful words and tone, she still heard the underlining accusation in there.

 

“The Breach _is_ quiet, Master Tethras. It is not gone. We will still need Lady Trevelyan.” The elf looked to her now, conveying the pressing need to keep the woman safe.

 

“Agreed… it would seem she is… innocent.” The words burned softly on her tongue, but in a way, she was glad they felt true. The woman’s faith seemed unshakeable, and she did not bow to politics, much like the Seeker herself.

 

“Looks like another point to our little Songbird.” Varric added, and Cassandra could see the glee he got from her own upset reaction.

 

“It does not mean-”

 

“Cassandra.” Leliana came up on her left just as they were getting to the entrance gate of Haven. The two women stepped aside to let the others pass.

 

 

 

Varric scratched his chin as he watched the women talk. If he had a guess, Leliana was going to lay in on Seeker about working with the Sooth-Sayer, even if Cassandra didn’t believe her. He had enough proof of her skills, and he was about 80% sure she was just that nauseatingly sweet as she seemed. A sly motion, someone who was turning to look at something only to look straight ahead, got Varric’s attention back on Solas. They both noticed the other, Solas averting his eyes toward the training ground before looking back to Varric. The dwarf gave his nose a tap as his answer, before changing his path. He watched with a bit of amazement as Curly easily carried Marina all the way into town without so much as a huff. Couldn’t see where they went after touching the stone steps, but he was sure they’d take better care of her this time. The ex-Templar was definitely looking better than the last time in Kirkwall. Varric dug into his tunic for his smoking pipe as he found a rock to sit on. A pinch of dried crystal grace, a quick swipe of his flint and striker, and he enjoyed a long draw of the herb. He closed his eyes to let the relaxing nature of grace hit his system. The crunch of snow, too light for boots, approached him. Varric gave half a smile to the tired looking elf, before offering his pipe to the man. Solas gave him a polite wave off before resting next to Varric.

 

“What’s got you worried, Chuckles?” Varric asked, noting the short glimpses of confusion and amusement before the elf’s patient mask came back on.

 

“You have had encounters with Lady Cassandra before, Master Tethras?”

 

Varric gave a tired sigh at the question, and Solas’ choice of titles for Varric. If the elf stuck around for this shit, Varric was going to make it his goal to break him of this ‘Master’ crap. “Yeah. She arrested me in Kirkwall a bit ago. Wanted to know where my friends were, especially the Champion. And if you’re curious, yeah, she gets pretty hot headed when it comes to the Chantry and anything that threatens it.” Varric took another long drag, sending a perfect loop into the air while Solas took in the information.

 

“Do you think our young Sooth-Sayer is at risk, in your opinion?” Varric looked over and saw the concern leech into the elf’s eyes. Though something still told the dwarf that Solas was hiding a few other thoughts and emotions under that bald head of his.

 

“Hm… I’d be more worried if Seeker hadn’t just admitted that she didn’t think Trevelyan was at fault. Give her a few more days and I might even be comfortable enough to leave Seeker and Songbird in a room alone together.” Varric gave a warm grin, even if he was only half serious. Curly and Leliana were better at playing nice with the round woman; least Dana had some support on that side.

 

“Her visions are amazing, and she is very forthcoming with her information. It would be a disservice to have her living in fear of Lady Cassandra’s wrath.” Solas added calmly, and Varric wanted to laugh around his pipe. Good way to confirm whether the dwarf was willing to put himself on the line for the woman, Solas. It wasn’t just for her visions, though, Varric thought as he added a bit more grace to his pipe. Damn woman was too much like Merrill, quick to help, maybe even a bit airheaded. Far from home and alone; curse his family protecting instincts. He’d only known her a few days.

 

“Don’t worry, Chuckles. I’m not interested in letting Seeker have at her. I’m pretty sure she melts if someone gives her a dirty look.” A half-chuckle from the elf got Varric’s full attention.

 

“To a degree it did,” and that was all he said before standing up again. “I believe it would be best if we find her. I very much doubt the Commander or Spymaster are interested in giving her a debriefing.”

 

Varric nodded at the invitation to find the woman, keeping his pipe between his teeth. “Best guess of where she might be?”

 

An amused smirk came and went from the stoic man’s features in a flash. “Indeed. Your nickname of Songbird is most adept to her personality. If we wish to find her, we must listen for singing.”

 

Varric cocked a brow, but followed anyway. It soon became clear just how right the elf was though. Several people were pausing next to the Chantry, looking in on a woman’s voice. She was certainly singing louder and better than her lullabies to Trevelyan.

  
  


**__ **

**_ Fannon POV and minor Varric POV _ **

 

 

_Making Science, Making Science, Is so fine_

 

I dig my rock in harder, punching through the root I was killing and tossing the pieces away. Last row!

 

_She’s awake now, and won’t the subjects be surprised?_

 

I hiss upon standing, kicking out my creaking knees and stomp hard to make the gaps between the different seed holes.

 

_Making Science, Making Science_

 

I push two fingers down into the soil at the tip of my footprints, just deep enough to cover up to my first knuckle, plopping three seeds in, before covering them up.

 

_I’ll build a tur-_

 

“Hey Songbird,” (“BLagHH” and I trip over the root I just killed and would have tumbled if not for my landing against the nearby tree) calls Varric, before he snorts hard and laughs at my panic.

 

I pant, looking over at the audience I have, noticing there were _still_ several townsfolk, and give a raspberry to the laughing dwarf and a ‘trying to hide his amusement’ _hahren_. “That’s not how you greet someone after being gone all day, you scoundrel!” I huff and stick my nose up in the air, before pulling off my earphones and shoving them away. I finish up my planting quickly, dusting my hands off once again. I fluff my outfit, getting any loose dirt off of it before walking over to them. “Evening Varric, Solas. I see things went _wellll_ ,” I beam as Solas gives me a small lip curl and nods his head to the side.

 

Though a look of concern just as quickly overtakes his face as he id looking me over. “Where are your gloves, Fannon?” I blink and look down, noticing how red and unhappy my hands look, though they don’t _feel_ painful.

 

“Oh right, that’s one of the things on my list to ask for. Thank you Solas for the reminder.” I look past them for Charter or Harding; man, I must have been really focused if I don’t know who’s on shift to watch me.

 

I jumped and stare down as Solas takes my right hand into his. OHH! The warmth from his is magical, and I’m guessing literally. “Thank you, _Hahren_!” I beamed up at him before popping my left onto my right. Dawwww, the tips of his ears go a little pink! People need to thank him more often.

 

“How long have you been out here, Songbird?” Varric asks in a, maybe, worried tone.

 

“Well, Charter, Harding and I got back from mapping out iron and elfroot, right as Cassandra was leaving with Trevelyan. Harding dropped off the maps and Charter and I dropped off most of the leaves with Adan. I asked him for tips on what conditions are needed to grow good elfroot, and I’ve been planting ever since.” I beam and jerk my head behind me, while switching my left hand for my right in Solas’ magic warmth. “8 rows, 5 potential plants each. Oh, and that pot under the tree? I’m hoping that grows into a Royal Elfroot.”

 

“You wish to help ensure that we have a plentiful supply of healing potions, it would seem.” I turn back around and feel myself fluff with pride. Solas sounds pleased with me; hello ego, haven’t heard from you in _ages_. “However, I must advise caution while working. A simple pair of gloves will aid you immensely.” And pop goes the ego~. Yup, gloves make sense.

 

“Like I said, it’s on my list of things to ask for, once we get better supplied.” I offer as I take my hands away. Oh, are they _stiff!_  I start popping each joint slowly.

 

“Nah, Songbird. Gloves aren’t a big deal, but lost fingers are. Let’s go,” Varric said, snapping his fingers and walking off to the center of town where Threnn should be. I try to control my ick face as I follow after my fav dwarf.

 

“A problem, Fannon?” I _didn’t jump!_ as Solas asks from behind me. Good lord am I obvious.

 

“The quartermaster is a fan of Logain. After being on the Warden/ Queen’s shoulder, I have to say, I am _not_.” I respond softly as we approach her.

 

“Master Varric; sorry, ser. No more parchment at this time,” remarks Threnn in her ‘bored with life’ voice.

 

“Nothing for me, thanks, quartermaster. My friend here is in need of some working gloves.”

 

“Ah, the singing woman.” She looks at me and I suck in a breath. I do _not_ like that look. It’s the look of pity, like I’m broken. “Surprised to hear a redundant woman sing so well. She’s been planting all day with her two handlers.”

 

Did this woman just say what I think she just said?

 

Solas’ hand grips onto my upper arm before I even knew I had moved. Varric wheels around and rests a hand on my stomach to hold me back. “Andraste’s ass, you actually _have_ a temper.” I feel my voice box vibrating; god damnit I’m growling!

 

Threnn is stunned for a moment at my outburst, but quickly slips back into that ‘dead to the world’ appearance.

 

“Listen, lady. You might want to watch your God-Maker damned tone! While you’re so quick to judge, I happen to have planted 40 elfroot and 1 Royal Elfroot. You know, the stuff that gets made into potions, so our soldiers don’t die.” I jerk against Solas’ _very strong_ grip, Varric nudging me harder. “Learn some human-humane, whatever, decency and treat those that come asking you for supplies like people.”

 

“Alright Songbird,” I epp loud and nearly flail myself off balance, as Varric digs his shoulder into my gut and _pushes_ me. “How about I finish the grocery shopping and meet you two at the tavern?”

 

“Holy shit, Varric!!” I am at least two feet back now and he looks like it was no effort at all. “You really are stacked!”

 

Varric arches his brow before waving me off. “Explain that one to me later, Fannon. Chuckles,” and cue _Hahren_ turning me gently and nudging me toward the tavern.

 

I’m in a bit of shock for the first few steps, blinking as I try to take in the fact that Varric, for a short moment, picked up my nearly 360-pound frame and moved me. Finally, I turn to Solas, who’s still holding my arm, and ask, “Are all Thedas men that strong?”

 

Solas’ eyes soften before he releases me. “It was not a matter of strength in the moment. He leveraged you back a bit, with my help to balance you. You were very distracted in the moment; it was easy to accomplish. On a similar note,” he opens the side door for me and I start in, “do you realize you growl when you are angry?”

 

I groan and thump my palm to my forehead. “Yes, but I haven’t done _that_ in ages.” I sigh and walk over to the table the three of us had yesterday. “Guess I should explain. There is _one_ thing that someone can try to bully me on that will _always_ make me lose my temper, and that’s my intelligence. I _know_ I don’t act like normal people, that my head isn’t on the same way as other people. But I am _not_ stupid.” I stare up at Solas, trying to push every ounce of will I can into that last statement.

 

“Of that, I have no doubts, _da’len_.” He responds, making me cock my head. Not really sure I’ve done anything particularly smart since I came here…

 

Since I _came…_

 

Shit…

 

 _In a dream, you don’t feel pain._ How many times have I been hurt in the last three days? Rope burns, shoulder slams, ankle pain…

 

Smells… the scent of mead which I’ve never known. The mix of people and animals smells with the hint of pine everywhere.

 

The tastes of vegetables, of the bitter elfroot that I nipped on early.

 

The sounds of swords clashing, the booms of the Breach, of armored people moving around.

 

My dreams were _never_ this straight forward. One minute I’d hanging with Scooby gang, the next I’m underwater chasing ‘fish’ which were actually tampons. I could always understand what my dreams MEANT after I woke up.

 

This… this was _real._

 

 

 

I’m not sure how I end up on the floor, but I know I’m panicking. A long line of whines is falling from my throat. Shakes, hunching in on myself, my hands go over my ears, and I’m getting cold. Soft voices, a gentle hand petting down my back, is all I notice, besides my own heaving whimpers and sobs. I’m in Thedas. I’m actually in Thedas. I’m not dreaming.

 

“No, Fannon. I am sorry, but you are not dreaming.” One of the gentle voices answers my ‘inner’ panic. I try to curl into myself tighter, jerking against the comfort, to hide from the knowledge I can no longer ignore, but something blocks me. A hard mass connected to arms pulls my face down and I’m crying into someone’s shoulder. My hands come off my ears and dig into the cloth under my face. I can’t be here. Thedas isn’t real.

 

“It’s real, Songbird. Chuckles and I are real. Easy now,” I try to pull away from the voice I know too damn well, but a second hand is keeping me pressed into him. My parents, my nephews… I haven’t gotten to hold my baby niecey yet.

 

“I am sorry for your loss, Fannon. Hopefully, we will be able to send you back home to your family someday.” Fuck, that smooth as hell elf scholar behind me. I give up on trying to reason with myself or the voices. I throw my arms completely around Varric’s neck and just cry.

  


 

 

Varric wedged himself into the corner behind their previous table, continuing to rub up and down the weeping woman’s back. The scene that had greeted him when he had arrived in the tavern had been heartbreaking. There was Fannon, wide eyed, tears streaming and Solas kneeling at her side, trying to get her to talk to him. All it took was one look of questioning before Solas spilled the barley. “I believe she has just realized she is actually here with us. Her visions were in dreams before. She has been convincing herself she was still asleep.”

 

Varric sighed and rested his head on the thick nest of brown hair as he nodded his chin in thanks to Solas as the elf stuck around. The rest of the tavern had decided to finally ignore their small group and stop staring after Songbird confessed about not holding her niece. A few others turned to harder drink, missing their own families. She mumbled at times, something about notes, I love yous and cats, but he couldn’t understand the chopped-up sentences and with her talking into his tunic.

 

Course the Maker _had_ to have a sense of humor as both Cassandra and Leliana walked into the tavern. Varric pulled his arms just a hair tighter around Songbird as both women took in the scene. Leliana’s face changed into one of cold scrutiny while Cassandra’s was one of surprise. Solas moved over to run interference. Varric owned the elf another ale.

 

“...arric?” came a rough, but finally understandable voice from his shoulder.

 

“Yeah Songbird?”

 

“… I don’ know what do now.” She burrowed her forehead into the crook of his neck. The lack of her previous good grammar and the baby-ish tone that she spoke with was a bit surprising.

 

“Do what you have been doing, Fannon. Give us advice, help around town, and be a sweetheart. I know I’ll be around here to help.” Varric answered honestly.

 

“… I’m sorry for ruining your shirt.”

 

Varric rolled his eyes skyward and felt like calling on one of Anders’ old ‘Andraste’s knicker weasels’. Of course, the woman was worried about his shirt. Here she was, in at least a different country, one she hadn’t believed was real, and she was worried about his damn shirt.

 

“Songbird, all you have done is water it. I’ll add the soap later to finish washing it.” A soft half giggle was the response, while she tried sniffing up all her tears. “How about some dinner?”

  
  
  
  


“ ’m not hungry. Tired now.” I sigh into his neck before trying to sit up on my own. I rub my eyes and pull my outfit up to wipe my nose. I look at the soft smile on Varric’s face. I try to mirror it. “You’re really a scou’rel with a heart of gold, Varric.” I manage a grin as he scoffs at me, before standing up. I try clearing my throat as much as I can. Panics mute my brain for a bit and explaining myself gets hard. Varric’s a saint for being able to understand me. He offers his hand, but I’ve already abused his good nature enough. I take ahold of the chair nearby and use it to get up, stiffening when I notice Cassandra and Leliana watching me. Shit, I don’t have anything left in me to deal with them.

 

“Fannon,” Leliana steps around Solas to address me directly, wearing an ‘understanding your pain’ face. I slump into the chair I used; shit, I _really_ don’t have the energy from this cloak and dagger mess. “I heard from Scouts Harding and Charter that you found a cabin a small walk from the training field. That knowledge allowed for some very precious notes to be delivered to Alchemist Adan. He said that with the notes, and the Royal Elfroot you found, we might be able to save Lady Trevelyan.”

 

“She’ll wake up ‘n three days. Make sore Solas got a chance to see her, too.” I am feeling more and more drained the longer I hear her, and my own accent is being pulled up again. I clear my throat again. I feel a sarcastic smirk try to come up as they all looked at each other. Solas wasn’t surprised, Varric amused, Leliana unreadable again, and Cassandra’s snarl face was up again. I need to think of a way to win her over.

 

“Very good. As I was saying, for your services, we have agreed that you can have the cabin. Scout Harding said you asked her to prepare it for someone, and she guessed you had wanted it.” Leliana gives a smile that I hope is genuine. I do my best to smile back.

 

“Please and thank you, Sister Nightingale. Can I go over there now?” I stand up eagerly. “I’ve been planting all day.”

 

“Do you have everything? I had Charter take your bedding over and we did not see anything else of yours.”

 

“Yes, I have been keeping everything on me. I’ll need water though.”

 

“That is also already in place,” Cassandra comments, and for a _moment_ , her face doesn’t have the harsh tension that seems to happen when looking at me.

 

“You should have an escort though; it is getting dark.” Leliana remarks, nodding to the rest of them before leaving.

 

“Seriously, where can I go?” I snide under my breath while adjusting my purse.

 

“She means as a woman alone, not as a prisoner that needs to be watched.” Cassandra added before walking ahead of me to open the door.

 

“If it is alright, Fannon, I wish to accompany you. I will set a few wards around the area.” I wrinkle my eyebrows and look back at the scholar. Wards for Fade visits? Wards for people? “Both.” Oh, fuck you, you mind-reading mother-

 

“Alright, let’s get this picnic on the road. Out you go, Songbird,” Varric gives me a pat on the back to get me moving. I feel a small laugh try to bubble up for a moment, before focusing on following Cassandra.

 

It really has gotten dark outside. Cassandra grabs a lantern that has been left by the steps, while Solas in the rear holds a little fireball in his hand. I may have been fascinated enough with it to bump into a barrel, which got Varric to snicker quietly. As we head out of town, I notice a dim light coming from the cabin I had guessed the Herald would be placed in. Looks like I’m right again. I point at it and look back at Solas. “She should be in there, FYI.”

 

“Eff-why-eye?”

 

“Oh, shoot. It’s an abbreviation for us. F-For, Y-Your, I-Information.”

 

“I am becoming more curious about your writing system, Fannon.” Solas remarks, and he gives me a general ‘relaxed happy face’. I can’t stop my beam; Solas always seems the happiest when you present him with new info or ask him Fade questions.

 

“We’ll have study sessions when I’m not so drained, _Hahren_.”

 

“That means elder, doesn’t it?” Varric questions from my side. Oh, right. Merrill probably slipped plenty of Elven in while traveling with the Kirkwall crew.

 

“It also means teacher, right? That’s what I have always known it as.” I muse, leaning my head waaaaaaay back to look at Mister Baldy.

 

“As the elder is seen as the teacher of many, both meanings can be used.” Solas replied as we descended the last steps to the training yard.

 

“Argg, I need Elven lessons too. I must gain _all_ the knowledge Thedas has to offer.” I pump my fist into the air, but my whole heart isn’t into the pursuit of knowledge at the moment.

 

“That is a lofty goal to have, Fannon.” Solas sass? I squint back at him. He cocks his head to the side, placid face back in place.

 

“Reading you is going to be about as hard as reading Leliana, _Hahren_ , but I will try.” That tiny chuckle I heard in the Fade sounds from his lips, before he waves me forward.

 

Cassandra has stopped and looking rather angrily at the rocks underfoot. “Which way to the cabin, Fannon?”

 

“Oh,” I moved forward quickly, leading just in front of the edge of Cassandra’s light. “So, this gravel path will lead to this big rock formation. The first left path will lead more directly to the cabin, while the second left path goes closer to a line of iron we found.” I stop and point out the formation once Cassandra’s light hits it. “The Royal Elfroot we found is up there too… oh dear lord,” I run ahead and touch the dirt and rocks that I hit along the way down. “I lost a few seeds when I fell. Damnit, I could have planted more.” Cassandra's light hits me as I tuck 5 more seeds into my purse.

 

“You fell, Fannon?” Cassandra questions while nodding her head back to the first fork by the rock.

 

“Yup, fell down the rocks, twisted my ankle around the lake, got a butt full of wet, druffalo nose. Pleasant day really.” I grin at her shocked face, raspberry Varric as he chokes/coughs.

 

“You got a druffalo nose to the ass, Songbird?” Varric was grinning. I wrinkled my nose teasingly at him.

 

“Apparently, the herd I’ve seen before was previous domesticated. One of the girls came over while I was singing. A baby came over too. They wanted pets. Ah, here we are~~” I sing, waving my hands in front of the cabin.

 

“Good size, too. Looks big enough for a small family.” Varric offers while bringing up something from his pocket. He walks over to an outside blazer and strikes whatever is in his hand. Sparks fly and soon the blazer is alit, illuminating the cabin.

 

“Well, I wouldn’t say no to a famous author as a roommate.” I offer before stepping over to the woodpile I noticed earlier. The cabin is probably freezing inside.

 

“Nah, got a nice plush tent all to myself. Besides, rumor has it you snore.” He opens the door before sweeping his arm to allow me in first.

 

“That is a vicious lie, Varric. I thought better of you.” I ‘hmph’ before carefully moving over to the large blazer, dropping my logs.

 

“I’m afraid it is not a lie, Fannon.” Solas comments while entering, quickly sending half of his fireball onto the logs. They whoosh as they light up, quickly warming the immediate area. I watch as the smoke travels upward to the ceiling before being sucked up through a small hole. Well, least I won’t die to smoke.

 

“ _Hahren_ , how could you?!” I grabbed at my heart and ‘swoon’ onto the wall behind me. Both men seem at least somewhat amused at my antics.

 

“It is a good residence.” Cassandra comments as she hangs her lantern on an inside hook, carrying just as many logs as I had, but in one arm. She dumps her load into the pit, using the last one to poke them into an overlapping triangle shape.

 

“Now I just need to warm it up. Excuse me, I’m just getting more logs.” I duck outside again, trying to stack more logs into my arms before returning, laying them up against the wall closest to the fire. I blink as Solas is moving around the room, small fireballs dancing around him. “Ohhhhh,” I sound in amazement at the show, and quickly noticing a warming overtaking the room.

 

“It should be warm enough for the night now, Fannon.”

 

“Solas, how do you do such amazing stuff with your magic? It’s almost artistic!

 

Pinkie ears! “I thank you for the compliment, Fannon. It is a simple matter for someone who is well practiced in magic.”

 

“We will send someone to check on you in the morning, Fannon. Please come to the Chantry for food.” Cassandra isn’t looking at me now. Sigh, so much for a book club.

 

“Come by and see me tomorrow, Songbird. Just cause you’ve got a nice big house now doesn’t mean you should forget the little people.” Varric’s smiling and I can’t… form words… wha

 

“Varric Tethras, there are sooooo many things wrong with that I don’t know where to start.” I plant my fists on my hips and shake my head. “Oh, Solas,” I just remembered the other reason the elf came. I tap myself on the forehead and look to him. “Ward, please.”

 

He gives me one fast blink, before a tiny soft corner-of-lip lift. A wave of his fingers and I’m popped with that snowball feeling again. “Gahhh, it’s even colder outside the Fade.” I rubbed at the spot.

 

“The others will be placed outside the cabin. I will need a small amount of your time tomorrow to put up something to keep people from entering your home. Good night, Fannon.” Solas nods as he exits… and I’m suddenly itching to tell him some things.

 

Whispering, so I hope only he can hear, I ask, “Solas, please find me in the Fade tonight. I think we need a study session.”  The only clue I get that he might have heard me was a single finger scratch behind his ear while closing my door.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a good example of a meltdown for me. My grammar fails, I am ashamed of every action I have taken, and if I'm not already being hugged, I don't feel worthy of touch. I fold up in on myself and if I'm not in private, I escape out of public eye as best I can.
> 
>  
> 
> February is likely to be a silent month. I need to build up my chapter buffer again and I need to get my next chapter of Fallout ready. I promise to be back in March, or earlier if Fallout behaves. (In real time, I am in Orlais but certain Inquisition members do not like being written. *looks at a certain lady mage and red jenny*)


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sooth-Sayer gets some sleep, gets some new clothes, and gets in some trouble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm backkkkk... and I didn't get a damn thing done on my other stories, thanks to a change in my schedule and needing to replay Fallout 3 while it crashes every 5 $%@#%$% minutes. So, I'm at least back for all of March's Saturdays; we'll wait and see about April. I want to make sure I keep a good buffer with this one.

I have a few moments of panic as I look around the cabin. Need to talk to Solas, but what do I say? How much should I keep to myself? Shittttt. Crap, what about Cassandra? How can I get her to be agreeable with me? I… I AM in Thedas, with no obvious way of getting back to my home! A rush of aggravation has me digging into my purse, drawing forth the charm bracelet I have been ignoring for days. I flip to the green orb, with one side in the pattern of the elf orb and the other side a square, partly clear green stone. The problem is my ADD is telling me I had seen something similar to that side too. I held it next to blazer, watching as different points of light splashed onto the cabin’s wall. I grr-ed at the orb, racking my brain this way and that trying to think about it. After a good 10 seconds of blankness, I sighed and fastened it to my left wrist, wiggling it. Andraste’s Grace, Book and Quill, Little Lion, Mage Staffs, and Gray Warden Shield, I tap the charms one at a time. ARGGGG brain is going a _million_ different directions!

 

I need some movement, so I grab a large pot and take it outside with me. I start scooping snow into it, growling and gently smacking myself whenever my worries try to voice themselves. Lugging the pot back in I set it close to the blazer. It’ll be water by morning, and I can boil it to drink it.

 

_What does Fen’Harel have to do with-_

 

“GAHHHH!! Shut. Up. Brain!” I bonk myself against the wall a few times. So, soooooo many things to think about, but I need to talk about some personal things first.

 

Adding two more logs to the fire-not that it needs it, I just happen to _really_ like fire- and checking the lock, I head into my nook. I set my purse on the table that was a cooking desk in game but is clear in real life.

 

Fuck, ‘in real life’.

 

Forehead meet wall. GRRRRR

 

I take a few deep breaths through my nose as I strip, this time including my bra and panties. Good god almighty, I hate sleeping without undies on, but it’s been three _real_ days. Even a full-on bath won’t hide old clothes funk. Least I have some privacy out here to wash them. I stretch up, turn from side to side to pop my back, and give my flub a pat. I run my hands over my tattoo; a personalize ‘cutie mark’ on my right thigh. An opened scroll with a teacher’s apple on top and a fountain pen and pencil wrapped up at the bottom. I touch the blue ink bottle next to the scroll gently. My best buddy designed it while in Marine Corp and I got it inked with her while visiting Japan. I feel tears welling up again as I think of Hannah-hun and her new daughter Fiona. Han-hun was going to be returning in February. I was going to use my airline miles to bring her down for a visit.

 

 I wipe at my eyes before looking at my bedding. I see my pjs came over too, though they smell of soap and the ankles are still a tad damp. I reach up for my braided bun, taking off the two ties that kept it as a bun, but left in the one that made it a braid. Starting to like the lack of mirrors, actually. Less chances to see myself. I dig into my purse again, pulling out my pills.

 

This was the main thing I had to bring up to Solas. I would need new medication of some kind if I was going to survive long after my pills run out. I sigh and rub my face, thinking back to all the other conversations I’ve had to have.

 

_“Oh please. Depression’s all in your head. Get outside and you’ll feel better.”_

 

_“Depression? How? You’re so upbeat.”_

 

_“Why would you try to kill yourself? You’ve got everything going for you.”_

 

HA! I fisted the bottle, damn near threw it, before I took a breath and held it. Count to 3, release. I popped the top of the bottle and fished out my two pills. I look around and spot a jug of water. I drown my medicine, setting the bottle itself back on the desk.

 

I wiggle myself into bed, so thankful for Solas’ extra fireballs around the space, and wait for sleep.

 

Arriving back in the black void for the third night is a row is _boring as fucking hell_. I sigh and rest my arms behind my head, kicking my left leg up to rest on my bent right knee. I look around me, trying to imagine _something_ into existence. I imagine the Veilfire torch that Solas brought to our first meeting, but just like last night, nothing. Zip, nada, nope.

 

So, instead, I just close my eyes and imagine a nice scene in my head. I imagine an old Roman bath house in its prime. Shiny marble floors and pillars, slightly raised pools for bathing, and even gentle music of harps and flutes for a relaxing time. I focus on the details; scents of cherries and almonds, my favorite soap. The marble was cold and laced with blues, and I imagined tiny feet slapping against the floor, before shrieks of giggles and splashes into the baths.

 

“Amazing,” (“GAHH” I flail myself, just now noticing the slight pressure that holds my pinkie.) I blink up to an awed Solas as he looks around my void.

 

“Damnit, why can you see things and I can’t?” I’m sulking, I know, but darn it.

 

His lip quirks, but he says nothing as he sits by me. I sit up, so we at least are face to face. “Evening, _Hahren_.”

 

“ _On dhea'lam, da’len_ ,” he answers. I grin at the new words and sit up straighter at the thought of learning.

 

“Again, please.”

 

“Is that why you asked to see me tonight? Simply to start learning elvhen?” I _swear_ I hear amusement in his tone, though it is a good question.

 

“No, though I will hold you to at least teaching me that.” I take two deep breaths before looking at him in earnest. “I need help, Solas, and I’m not sure who to go to.”

 

He nods and offers his other hand as a gesture to continue.

 

“I’m… I’m different, in a number of ways, from other people.”

 

“Are we not all unique in our ways, Fannon? Your friendly nature is not a problem. In my view, it is quite welcome against the guarded and distrustful nature that so many possess. As I have said before, childlike in your acceptance of the new.”

 

“Thank you, Solas, but… there’s more. Like I said, I’m different. I have… conditions. Ones that I don’t know if Thedas has. They… can be dangerous if left untreated. For me, at least. I’m hoping you can help, _Hahren._ You’re the smartest person I know.” He nods, going back into the calm neutral I know so well. “I’ll do my best to describe the symptoms.” I try to think up the best way to describe myself. The uncomfortableness of having to talk with someone builds, though, and I have to take away my hand. “Just…”

 

A brush of a finger shows me Solas briefly. “I will be here when you are ready.”

 

I twist my fingers together, unlock them before twisting them around my hair. I look up, knowing Solas is there, but not seeing him.

 

“It’s… it’s like having a voice, deep inside your thoughts. It’s not your voice, but you recognize it every time is starts talking. It’s always there, no matter how many good people surround you or all the support they give you. The voice keeps saying it’s a lie, that no one actually cares, that-”

 

A pinkie takes mine and Solas is looking at me with understanding. “We call people who suffer from that Hollow Souls. Most, like you, feel uncomfortable about their feelings. Some try to hide, and they are lost to the world, usually by their own hand.”

 

I nod at that while trancing a line around my neck with my thumb. “There… there were close calls. But we have medication. Different kinds, even, and I found the ones that worked for me. The problem is, I’m in Thedas, not home. I only have a few more days’ worth.”

 

“I see. Finding a substitute for your ‘medication’ will not be difficult.” I light up as he says so, and he gives me a half smile and his head side nod. “I am sure Adan as a simple version readily available, but I will seek out a more potent one, to be sure.”

 

“ _Thank you_ , Solas.” I squeeze his pinkie.

 

“How are you feeling now, _da’len_?” He asks, and I know what he’s asking. I sigh, and look off to the void, hoping he’ll change the topic. “Sulking like a child now?” I snort once before turning to face him again.

 

“Old mannnnn.” He pulls up his eyebrows, and I can almost see the Solas slightly disapproves over his head. He’s patient though, and waits me out. “I… don’t know? How can anyone be ok after understanding that they are literally _worlds_ away from everything they have known and love? It’ll sink in, bits and pieces at a time. I’ll try to stay out of the public eye when I start feeling like I need a moment.”

 

“You are not alone here, nor are you without knowledge. Those should prove useful in your adjustments.” I cock my head left at the ‘not alone’.

 

“Solas, this might be a bit early in our knowing each other, but I hope someday you can see me as a friend.” Oh shit, wide eyes! Too forward, back up! “We can have Fade study parties! I’ll teach one night, you teach the other.”

 

“That does sound like a fair idea, though we can talk just as easily outside the Fade, Fannon.” He isn’t running for the Fade hills and that _sounded_ like an open invite. I will hold out hope for being friends. “Let us speak tonight of your arrival to Thedas.”

 

I start at the beginning, though we have to divert a number of times for me to explain something of my world. Luckily for me, my imagination is spot on and he claims to see whatever images come to my mind. He’s very interested in the charm, especially once I explain that I think it’s an elvhen foci. He’s very quiet as I play the memory of it exploding several times. I skip over all my interactions with Fen’ fuck him, because I’m not sure how Solas will take the news of a supposed Elven God. My pinkie slips out of his grasp a number of times while I gesture and rant through my tale.

 

“To actually walk in the Fade,” I have to bite my lip. There’s the ‘oh wonders of the ages’ voice he does after falling into the Fade at Adamant. Friggen cute… blah, did I just use the word cute to describe Solas? Scholarly, wise, potentially harshly sassy, but cute?!

 

“It wasn’t so much _walking_ as running for my life. And dear lord, the smell. I swear it is only thanks to the fear that I didn’t lose my crackers.” I ick face, and he does this little cough/laugh in his chest. Dismissive? “Hey, I’m not knocking the Fade you see in dreams, but,” I wave my hands around the void. “ _I_ can’t see jack-shit.”

 

“You have quite the mouth on you, once out of the public eye, _da’len_.” I would say that’s sass if it didn’t worry me so.

 

“Sorry, I can rein it in if it offends.”

 

“No, simply noting.” He stretches his left side before moving to stand. I let go of our fingers and hop up (hey, in the Fade, my bones aren’t complaining) before I offer my hand back. He rests the back of his against mine. “I will be off. I will visit Lady Trevelyan’s sleep before looking for a potion for you.”

 

“I need a stronger phrase than ‘Thank you’ for your time, Solas. It… it was a worry even before I accepted that I was here.”

 

“I understand. I will hopefully have good news in the morning. Sleep well, Fannon.”

 

“Good night, elder.”

 

I spend ages longer in the void, pouting at my lack of dreams. Time passes so slow when there’s nothing to look at. I give up after a short bit and start replaying cutscenes in my head, letting myself wonder just want to change if I can.

 

I’m jerked awake by a few loud knocks. I can see it’s fairly late morning from the sunbeams on my floor. I wrap a blanket around myself, not really knowing the level of ‘decent’ I need to answer the door. A second set of knocks starts sounding as I unlock the door and I am surprised to see Varric and Cassandra outside. Both have packs of things and Varric has three water skins in his right hand.

 

“Only getting up now, Songbird? That’s very _noble_ of you,” Varric slides in, himself and the poke of fun.

 

“Ughhh, for the love of all that’s holy, I am not noble. Here or in my home country. I’m just a regular teacher who happens to _hate_ mornings.” I move over to the wall with all the stuff and kick a box over next to the fire. Varric takes the invitation and settles while I kick another over for Cassandra. “Sorry, I’m still in my pjs. Haven’t had a chance to clean up, so excuse the mess.” I plop myself on the floor, snuggling tight into my blanket.

 

“No messier than it was last night. Alright, some ‘new home’ presents as well as some ‘good job’ presents from the big shots in the Chantry.” Varric started opening his pack, though I caught a look of confliction pass over Cassandra in the corner of my eye. “First are some work gloves,” he tosses them over. I wiggle my hands out while keeping my cover as closed as possible. They are black, almost ski-glove like in thickness, and actually fit. I flex them, hearing the crinkling of the leather at my knuckles.

 

“Thanks, Varric. Pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to go back to Threnn if you hadn’t gotten them.” I take the gloves off and set them aside.

 

“Yeah, she certainly is a tough potion to swallow. Called me Carta when I went up to ask if she needed help.” My eyes narrow and I gripped my sheet harder to settle myself.

 

“Next is a few things and outfits from Lady Ambassador.  I think a few daily cleaning items; there’s like three bars of soap in here. She told me not to open the bottom wrap, so I’m guessing you just got some fresh lady garments.”

 

“Varric!” Cassandra chastised him while I laughed. Oh shit, full laughing bad. I laugh a dozen ways, but this could turn into a giggle fit. My giggle fits can get painful. I bit down into my blanket to try to stop them before they get bad.

 

“What Seeker? I have been close friends with a number of women over the years. Some even took me with them for shopping. How do you think I found some much time to write?”

 

Nope, now I have an image of Varric sitting on some bench in the Kirkwall market while Isabella and Merrill compare undies.

 

“Hehehehheeeeeeeeeeeeeeee” NOOOOO!!

 

Both look at me now, until Varric slaps his knees, laughing. “You sound like a tea kettle” is all Cassandra says.

 

I bury myself completely in the blanket as I wheeze until I have a headache. God dammit, I hate my hard laugh!

 

“Maker, I don’t think I’ve heard anything like that,” Varric wipes the corners of his eyes, which just prolongs me.

 

Panting, and starting to come down from my giggle high, I keep the blanket on my head. Sometimes looking at people sets me right back off. “Whooo, thank you Varric. I’ll make sure to thank Lady Josephine too.”

 

“Is that normal for you?” questions Cassandra briskly, and I make a show of turning in her direction under my cover.

 

“Sometimes. I get giggle fits, where something that’s not _really_ all that funny, just seems like it at the time. Laughing like that gives me such a headache, but I can’t stop.”

 

“The woman tea kettle, by Varric Tethras” the dwarf muses aloud. I grab my gloves and toss them back at him. I peek my head out to make sure I didn’t actually hit him.

 

“Don’t you dare! You’ll have plenty of new and interesting material to write about once Lady Trevelyan is awake again.”

 

“Ah, speaking of writing. You mentioned not knowing our Common writing system? I’ve come to offer my servicesHEY,” I launch at him, squealing as I hug him and nearly make him tumble off the box.

 

“Oh, Thank you Varric!” An extra squeeze and I let do, kneeling next to the box. “I can’t ask a lot of your time, but any help is greatly appreciated!”

 

“Alright, we’ll make up a time and place, but it better be _after_ you head to the Chantry. Seems like you have made a big impression on Curly and Nightingale.”

 

I nod and grab my packages and head into my nook.  I do have the three more bars of soap, one toothbrush that makes me nervous, and a small jar of what I’m guessing is Thedas toothpaste. Next, I fan out my different outfits. The first is a general dress, something in the ‘barmaid’ fashion, with a cinched waist that formed an extra half skirt on top of the dress. The top was white, the cinch and over skirt a gentle yellow while the bottom of the dress was a pale pink. Looked cute. The other is the same make as my first outfit, just with different blues versus the blue and green. I decide on the dress for the day, just to wear something different.

 

The underwear is easy enough to figure out. Like a tie-on bikini bottom, not that I have ever worn one of those in my life. The breast band… what the ever-loving hell? I see two ‘cups’ and about three dozen feet of linen attached to them. Grrr!

 

So, there is no way someone of my bust size should be braless. With a wide chest and Triple D’s, I’d probably give myself a black eye with the way I jiggle. Looking at the band, I give in to my obvious failure, and say, “Lady Cassandra, may I have your help please?”

 

I keep my pj shirt to my chest as Cassandra comes around the corner, looking confused. Course as her eyes scan my colorful ink, she looks even more so. “My country has a different kind of top wear. Can you give me a run through of how to do this?”

 

The Seeker blinks a few times while looking at the band. She clears her throat before giving a brisk, “Of course,” and going through the motions on herself. Turns out, looking closer at the band, that the right side has only about six inches of linen. So, you place the cups on your chestcicles, hold the six inch side against your ribs and armpit and wrap the other end several times around the bottom part and finish up by wrapping the top. Tie off in a bow and flip any excess under the wrap and ta-da, secured tatas.

 

The dress is easy, though more time consuming that I’m used to, and I even have some new socks, albeit with runs and two holes. Don’t care; I’m clean!! I grab my bag and grin at Cassandra, who has stuck around while I dressed. She is… calmer?? “Thanks again, Cassandra.”

 

“It is no problem, but we must get to the Chantry.” Whelp nevermind, that tone is still super ‘I don’t want to be here’ like. I nod and we walk back out to Varric. I notice Cassandra’s unopened pack and throw a quick ‘what’s that’ head nod to it. “Those are some fruits and vegetables for you to keep around. I will place them in the snow outside to keep them fresh.” I pick up my gloves and follow the two out, watching as Cassandra buries my snack bag next to the house.

 

“Well, that’s a nice piece of jewelry there, Songbird.” Varric comments, making me look down to my wrist. I smile and offer it him for closer inspection.

 

“I got pieces for all my visions. Well, not all my visions. I hateeeed Orzammar. It just went on and on and so much damn stone.” Not to mention I hateeeed the lack of quick travel points in Origins. I’m bored, let me move fasterrrrr. I point to the rose for Alistair. “I got this one because it was the present King Alistair gave to his wife,” I point to the cat and wolf fighting. “This one is for Fenris and Anders, before he decided to be an as-jerk.” Varric smirks at that one but I see his shoulders slump. Well, he had been a friend of Anders for 6 actual years. “The book and quill represent you, my dear author.”

 

Varric’s emotions change rapidly and I can’t track them all. He looks up from my wrist and gives me a sad smile. “You really have been watching us for a while, huh?” It’s more of a redundant question and I just smile.

 

“I have. Studied my visions too. Sometimes going over them a dozen times,” quicksave is such a blessing, “And sometimes shouting at someone for making the choice they made. Like Sister God-damn Petrice. GAHHHHH! Why. Didn’t. You. Guys. Just. Kill. Her?”

 

“We all asked the same thing, but Waffle did what she thought was best at the time.” Varric shrugs before moving ahead of me. “If that Qunari archer hadn’t taken care of her, Hawke probably would have handed her over to the Arishok gift wrapped.”

 

Hm, note to self: Waffle is the nickname for a peaceful Hawke. Good to know.

 

We walk into town with a comfortable silence, though I pause to look over at the Herald’s cabin. I am sure I see a mage’s staff inside, and mentally relax that is seems like no one is giving Solas shit about helping her. Passing next to the Chantry is where I get a nice surprise. I see little bits of green sticking up already… HUH?!

 

I clap a hand on Varric’s shoulder and point to my plants. “Higsiba? What the heck? How are they already sprouting?”

 

“Ah, guess you didn’t know about that one. Lots of Circle mages get taught a growing spell. Helps them in the Circle with their food and materials to craft into sellables.” Varric offered, following me as I went over and touched my little seedlings.

 

“Thank god for magic. I am actually _horrible_ at attending to plants.” There is a little fuzzy bud growing at almost every hole. One even has a bit of a stem reaching up.

 

“Don’t let many people hear you say that, Songbird. Lotta people still nervous about mages.” Varric notes in a softer voice. I notice a bit of displeased across his face and I wonder about Hawke.

 

“Ugh, I never, _never_ understood Thedas’ issue with mages. No matter how many times I watched my visions.”

 

“So you would allow mages to run free, unchecked?” I tense up and bit my lip. _Still_ with the grumpy, Cassie? Jesus H Christ.

 

I start tap-a-tap my bottom lip as I think of the best way to answer her, since I’m sure she won’t let me _not_ answer. Standing up and turning her way, I bite my index finger twice, breathe deep with it still between my teeth, before releasing both the finger and breath. “I have a more complicated answer than just a yes or no. However, I think this is not the time to let my opinions be known. So,” I _sliiiide_ around her intimidating figure, “I am just going to go into the Chantry, and you can be upset with me later. Baiiiii.” I break out into a fast walk while chanting ‘running a-way, running a-way’ under my breath. I’m not sure if I hear the disgusted grunt or if it’s my imagination.

 

I breathe a sigh of relief once I’m in the Chantry. I weave away from the morning praying people and head to Josie’s room. Not sure who I’m meant to see, and I need to thank the Antivan. I knock, receive a ‘come in’, and step inside.

 

Oh! Josie is in a flashy, ruffled cream color today. Very nice with her skin tone. “Good morning, Lady Josephine.”

 

“Oh, Ser Fannon. Good morning to you too.” She sets a few papers aside and stands up, looking me over.

 

“Thank you for everything, Ambassador. Please don’t feel the need to spoil me further, though. Except soap; I will always take soap.” I spin myself just a touch, so she can see what she ordered.

 

“Ser Fannon, it is not a matter of _spoiling_ you. You simply cannot have only one outfit and sleeping clothes to your name. Especially not with the services you have rendered. Of course, we hope you will continue to help with any and all information.” She actually gives me a little curtsy, which makes me wince.

 

“Josie no! No curtsies please. I’m just your run of the mill teacher. No fancy stuff.” I start rubbing my arm in embarrassment.

 

“You have helped us prepare for the closing of the Breach. Your advice helped save a number of lives. Please do not disregard your contributions, Ser Fannon.” She has the look of my elementary school teacher. The one time I got caught cheating on my spelling test. She ‘was disappointed because she _knew_ I was smart enough on my own.’ I didn’t cheat after that.

 

“I just like helping, Ambassador. It’s kinda my thing.” I lower my eyes to my boots, twisting my toes inside.

 

“And we are thankful that it is.” I jump a little as her hand enters my vision. I look at her face again. She’s patient as I shake her hand.

 

“Now I will summon Commander Cullen and Sister Leliana. If you would please wait in the War Room.” Josie starts to escort me out of the room.

 

“Hey, can I have a chair? I have a feeling this is going to be a long meeting.” Especially from all the ideas I had after Solas left last night.

 

We pick up a chair from the main hall. (She points, I lift) I head into the War Room and take a place at the end of the table opposite where Leliana was. A servant, a teen dark skinned human, comes in with a snack for me. I thank him and munch while looking over the map. If I remember right, troops are the fists, birds are Leliana and keys are Josie. I think back on the pre-Arbor Wilds cutscene, shivering a little. It had been _so_ intense. Leliana’s face as her ravens delivered the messages to the scouts. Cullen’s slow, almost animalistic stride over the wall as he watched the troop push forward. Hmmm, raw animal-like Cullen.

 

Hello, gutter. My brain’s here to visit.

 

I chew my lip to stop my grin as I think about it for far too long. I tip a little Josie back and forth for a moment before I send it over to the Free Marches. I wonder if the Black Emporium is a real thing, but we should call on Starkhaven and Kirkwall. I set Leliana’s piece on Ostwick, since I had liked the ‘hint of assassins’ option for when the human Herald’s family starts acting out.

 

I get out of my chair and start placing more pieces in the areas I remember. Leliana in the Hinterlands, Cullen to the Lord ‘you kids get off my lawn’, Josie to Denerim, Redcliffe and the Redoubt. Damn, I played the early game _way_ too damn much.

 

I fiddle with one more Josie piece as the door behinds me open. (I didn’t jump!) I smile behind me, noticing Josie leading in Cullen, Leliana, and Cassandra. I pop my last Josie piece in Orlais and plop my butt into my chair. “Good morning, Hydra.”

 

“Hydra, Ser Fannon?” Josie stands close to me, clipboard in hand while all of them look at what I have done with the board.

 

“It’s a mythical creature where I am from. It’s a dragon with three heads,” I point to Cullen, Leliana and Josie, catching Cassandra scowl at me. “We have diplomacy, espionage, and forces. Cassandra is a good front lines figurehead. Strong, quick to action. She’ll be the start of the Inquisition’s reputation.” HA, eat that you grumpy lady.

 

“You have moved several pieces around. Do you have some ideas?” Leliana draws us all back to the table.

 

“Yup, some things that I know are going to happen… and a few I would like to change.” I offer and scoot closer to the table. “But… some of them I can’t talk too much about. We have a theory, back home, about knowing the future. To change one thing could accidentally change 100 others. But some of the changes could end up saving hundreds of lives.” I play with a spare Cullen piece, still thinking about some of the changes I’m already planning on making.

 

“You will not tell us what you are changing?” Cassandra snaps and looks to Cullen for backup.

 

“It’s not like I can _order_ you lot around. I’ll make suggestions, you take them how you will.”

 

“You could endanger us all! What use is a Sooth-Sayer if you can not see the outcome of your actions?” Cassandra fumes, striking the table with both fists, knocking over a few of my pieces.

 

Alright, you know what? Fine. I set my last piece down on the corner of the table with a sigh and push away from the table. I really have tried to be patient, but everyone else has at least given me the benefit of a doubt. Cassandra can’t accept me? I’ll stay out of her way.

 

“Fannon?” Cullen asks as I head to the door.

 

“I am obviously not a safe enough person. I will leave you lot to iHEYY” I am jerked back by an angry Cassandra. Oww damnit, what is with her grip?

 

“You will not leave this room until you tell us _everything_ you know!” (‘Cassandra!’ calls Leliana, ‘Lady Pentaghast!’ from Josie)

 

“Oww, Cassandra, you’re hurting me!” She jerks on me again and I know I’m going to have a hand shaped bruise soon. I am finally starting to feel scared; my forearm really hurts!

 

Cullen is on her in a flash, digging his thumb into her elbow, making her let go. Josephine is quick to me, holding my arm to my side. Shit, I stare at the incensed woman. “What the _fuck_ is your problem, Cassandra?! This isn’t like you!” I half yell at her, ducking myself into Josie as she jerks her arm free.

 

“STOP THAT! Stop speaking like you know us personally! You do not know us!” She’s snarling, and Cullen has a hand on her shoulder to keep her at bay.

 

“May-be fuck-ing not, but I know enough! You might be brash Cassandra, but you don’t go around hurting innocent people. I’m just trying to help!”

 

“Cassandra is this truly the reason you are angry about our consult with Fannon?” Leliana waits calmly on her edge of the table.

 

Cassandra looks to her, staring/glaring for a good while, before she takes a long breath through her nose. “She. Is. An unknown.” She looks back over at me. “She falls through a rift, from somewhere outside of the known map, with knowledge she should _not_ have. No one but the Maker himself should have such information. She has nearly precise visions, yet she will not share the most important details. Who is behind the Breach? Where are they? Can you answer me that? No, you have refused.”

 

“Because they aren’t _here_ or anywhere close! Do you really think the person who had enough power to get to the Divine and blow a hole in the _fucking_ sky is someone we can take on right now? Do you think it was just one person?!”

 

Cassandra is panting, but seems to be thinking about what I have said.

 

“I am _trying_ to help prepare us. He _isn’t_ alone. He _will_ come back, and we have to be ready.” I touch Josie and move around her and Cullen to stand directly in front of Cassandra. “We can take steps now to prepare and even weaken him. But the Inquisition isn’t just about fixing the hole in the sky, or taking care of the one responsible. Thedas is in chaos with the war, and we are going to be the ones to set it right. You don’t have to like me Cassandra, but if you want my help, you need to at least let me try.”

 

It’s a standoff, her eyes searching mine for something. Finally, she releases a stuttered breath and her shoulders slump. “I am… sorry Fannon. I-I have been putting so much blame on you. I want-”

 

“You want Justinia back. I understand, but Cassandra, I wasn’t _here_ before the Breach. I’m sorry, there was no way I could have saved her. Either by myself or informing someone else.”

 

She shook her head back and forth, eyes squeezed shut. “I-I will remember that, Fannon.”

 

“How about this? I _am_ an unknown; after the meeting, how about you guys ask me questions?  There’s some I can’t answer. Vision wise or home wise. I have to be careful with the home questions because some things you just _won’t_ believe. Fair?” I look around at everyone else before going back over to the table. Josie is quick to move back to my side, but Cullen stays on the side with Cassandra.

 

“How about we start with something simple? Leliana, it is my _suggestion_ that you send Scout Harding and as many as you see fit to The Hinterlands. There is a large faction of rogue Templars and Mages in the area. They are terrorizing the people of the Hinterlands and might end up spilling over into Redcliffe itself. There is also the horse master Dennett. He’s worried about the farms and farmers around him, so maybe start holding back resources for building protection.” I look to her and pout. “Why are you so hard to read, spymaster?”

 

She gives me one blink before smiling. I jump back from the table. Ok, _that_ one? Has to be genuine.

 

“I would be a poor Spymaster if I was easy to read, Fannon.”

 

“True, very true, but _please_ , for my sake, give me something to at least _try._ I’m sure I won’t read you right anyway, but just a little something.” I fold my hands and gave her the ‘please please’ gesture.

 

She gave a light chuckle before resting her fingers over her piece. “I was just thinking how I was already planning this trip.”

 

I toss my hands up, “Blahhhh of course you were. Ok, next one, and I think we might ask Varric for this one.” I walk my fingers up to the Free Marches. “We need contact with the Marches. There is a chance that smaller rifts will show up there too. We also can ask for support from the Prince of Starkhaven. Very, very Andrastian. Also, a might stubborn and thick headed, but _very_ Andrastian.”

 

“I remember him from _The Tale of The Champion_. Is it true that Hawke helped avenge his family?” Josie was in fangirl mood again, and omg is it _cute_.

 

“Yup, first it was a crew of Mercs, then a family driven mad by a Desire demon. He was… well, I’ll just say it. He was a bit of a pain. ‘Oh, do I avenge my family and take my title or keep my vows to the Maker?’ It seemed like he changed his mind every 5 minutes. I just wanted to take hold of that pretty face and shake some sense into him!” I’m getting more and more excited, even going through the motions of shaking an imaginary archer.

 

“Pretty face?” Leliana asks, and damn that smug ‘Oh I see’ face. I felt flustered for being called out on my attraction, but also warm because she was giving me faces to try to read.

 

“Didn’t you meet him, Leliana? 3-4 ish years ago in Kirkwall? Don’t tell me you didn’t notice those eyes?” I cross my arms and cock my hip, raising my eyebrows in a challenge. I blink over to Cullen, who’s rubbing at his neck, looking down.

 

“I did meet him, though I was too preoccupied with the attacking mages and Hawke.” She gives me the tiniest of winks and I beam. Ohhhhh, someone likes the ladies!

 

“Anyway anyway, back to the subject. Prince Vael, check for news about the rifts, general good nature talking. Question for Cullen,” I look over, and while he is still rubbing his neck, he looks over curiously. Hmm, talking about pretty face… NO, bad brain, focus!

 

“How many _decent_ Templars might still be in Kirkwall? Is there a chance they would respond to you? They’d have to be able to get along with mages.” I pull puppy eyes as Cullen starts scowling.

 

“There… may be a few, but it would be a difficult thing to convince them to join. If they are still there, they would be trying to keep the order with Captain Aveline.”

 

“Aveline! God, I love her! She’s damn good at her job.” Nod nod. “Ok, well in that case, we should still try sending out letters to other Circles for non-rogue Templars… and we should do it soon… Hmmm” I rub viciously at my ponytail, trying to think of some way to explain what’s going to happen without influencing what would be a major decision. Sighing, and smoothing my hair back, I look at them.

 

“One of those things that you can not explain to us?” questions Cullen though I notice he has taken a second clipboard from the other side of the table and is writing something.

 

“Not yet at least. I _can_ explain later. Got to get some reputation first. Make those letters charming, Commander.” I added playful eyelash batting. I blinked as red starts creeping into his cheeks. Too playful? … “Did I just flirt?” I turned to Leliana for confirmation on that.

 

She and Josie snickered, Leliana for only a moment. Cullen is resting his forehead in his palm. “Some people would take that as flirting, yes.”

 

Now I pink up. I _don’t flirt_! I’ve never even tried. If I didn’t find male bodies so nice, I would think myself asexual. Still not sure what to classify myself as. I get up quickly and stand next to Cullen. “Cullen, I’m so sorry! Just ignore what I said!”

 

“I don’t know which is worse. That you flirted, that you didn’t know you did, or that you are taking it back.” He looks at me now with a slight sassy smirk but shaking his head.

 

I whine, twisting my fingers while scooching back over to my chair, eyes on the floor. I feel like I have a sunburn on my face.

 

“What next, Fannon?” Cassandra, surprisingly, is the one to my rescue. Yes, please, back to topic.

 

“So, Josie, and some Leliana. We need to get ears in Ostwick, Denerim, Orlais and most of the big centers. You two know that much, but things to listen for: Trevelyan’s family trying to use the Inquisition’s name for leverage. I suggest ‘hints’ of assassins, depending how Trevelyan feels. No need to dole out expensive favors if she’s not close to them.”

 

“You seem to know very little about Trevelyan herself, Fannon.” Leliana notes with a curious look.

 

“It’s… hmmm,” I chew on my thumb pad while dancing my other hand on the map. How to… “I only know Trevelyan from the time she exited the Fade. And even in the visions I was her shoulder. I couldn’t… ‘watch’ _her_ , I can watch what she sees. Actually, I saw her make a dozen different choices on the same question. So, in her case, I know her possible answers and actions, not her true ones.”

 

“And you believe she will be at the front of the Inquisition? That she will be making decisions?” Cassandra… doesn’t sound _as_ harsh. Progress?

 

“I promise you, you are going to start hearing rumors about her soon. People are going to start looking at her like the second coming. But on the non-religious side, she is the one who stopped the Breach. She is the one with the magic hand. Can you really keep her on the sidelines when you officially declare the Inquisition?” I keep eye contact with her, though Cullen’s the one to answer.

 

“There are already rumors. Though, there are starting to be ones about you too.” He looks at me, and I give the most confused face I own.

 

“Cause I planted elfroot? Snapped at Threnn? Broke down crying in the tavern?” I haven’t even interacted with anyone outside of the main cast and named characters.

 

“You were on the mountain at the same time as Trevelyan, and you told the soldiers that you could see things. You addressed me rather familiarly,” my back shivers at the amused voice. Damn you, sensitive ears. “Others have seen our interactions with you and as you said, people take notice of who the ‘big wigs’ pay attention to.” He sets the note down on the table before turning to me, hands on his sword. “There are many questioning why you seem so important.”

 

I sank into my chair, lifting my leg up to cross my ankle at my knee. Clasping my cheek in my palm, I sigh heavily. “Well, Shi-take mushrooms,” Josie is giving me the strangest look. I give her my ‘what did I do?’ face and she points down with her pinkie finger. I look down myself and have a flash of how ‘unladylike’ I am being. I quickly plop my leg back down and cross them at the ankles instead. I look over at Leliana. “Any chance we can quiet those rumors?”

 

“After today, no. I’ve already heard the servants talking about a woman in the War Room, dancing her fingers over the map.”

 

I ‘ugh’ myself and flop my head back against the chair’s back. “He was just a little kiddo. People are really going to take the word of a, what 12-13 year old?”

 

It was quiet for a moment and when I looked up, they all have a range of confusion on their faces. Josie was the one to ask, “Perhaps there is a difference in what is expected at certain ages between our lands. Can you explain, Ser Fannon?”

 

I blink for a bit, before remembering, hey medieval age like. “Hm. Well, in our age, 18 is considered adult. Everyone from 13 to 17 can get some kind of work with the help of their parents. Most still have their home chores. My government passed a number of laws over the last… hm 100 to 120 years that keeps the kiddos out of dangerous jobs. Course most of those dangerous jobs are now done by…” I scrunch up my face. Could I explain robots?

 

“Slaves?” questions Leliana, and her face is harshly contorted. Right up until I make a horrible one myself.

 

“Nope, that’s been outlawed for longer, pushing closer to 160. Though, just like Thedas, some groups don’t like that. No, I’m… trying to think of HOW to explain it. Ask me again tomorrow on the dangerous jobs. What about Thedas kiddos?” I look over to Cullen. “I know those with the Templar order can start training really early, but they get an education too.” Cullen nods. “What about normal kiddos?”

 

“Most children are set to learn a trade early. 6 or 7, even earlier for those that will be farmers. Most are only taught their trade and housekeeping. A few will learn some math. Most children are working on their own by 13.” Leliana offers. I can’t really help my grumpy face and scratch at my nose.

 

“Hm, once I learn Common’s writing system, can I teach the kids in Haven?” Josie blinks rapidly at the idea and looks to the others.

 

“We already have 20 children in Haven, 7 of whom are orphans. Could you teach so many?” muses Leliana.

 

“Oh yeah, that’s a decent size class, but not the most I’ve taught at once. Once I’m taught, I can teach them reading, writing and some decent level math.” I grin, cause damn if I don’t love teaching. Those lightbulb, ‘a-ha’ moments are the best.

 

“There’s something you must understand, Fannon,” I cock my head over to Cullen, who’s been eye talking with Josie. “There are few of… positions that want the common folk educated.” He offers, though there is a look of… frustration? on his face. I feel my evil ‘yeah, fucking right’ smirk creeping along my face.

 

“Did you ever wonder why that is? We had the same thing. It’s so the damn nobles feel all big, bad, and important. See, what happens when that is allowed to continue is vast segregation. The common folk realize they are being used and abused, and suddenly nobles’ heads are flying. My country has free education to the masses. There are still the nobles who pay for their kids to be given extra, but over 80 percent of kids ages 13-18th will complete their free education.” Josie is mad scrambling in her notes.

 

“Please Ser Fannon, how can your country afford so much education? Are you paid for your teaching services? What about-”

 

“Forgive me, Lady Montilyet, but perhaps after the meeting?” Cassandra gently diverts. Josie blushes and I wink while clicking my tongue.

 

“Not to worry, Josie. I’ll give you as many details as I can. Ok, where did we leave off?”

 

“Lady Trevelyan’s family.” Cassie offers.

 

“Right, so that’s going to be a completely her call thing. Around the same time, I know there is going to be a noble, a low-end, kinda out of his mind one, that’s going to ask the Inquisition to ‘take care’ of some refugees on his land. I personally vote for _NOT_ doing him a favor and instead help the refugees, maybe escort them to Haven.”

 

“Why not garner favor with this noble? Do you remember his name?” Josie peels off one paper from her board and starts on a new one.

 

“Sorry, I don’t but I remember his letter. ‘Help me now with these heretics on my land. Some are elves and apostates. Dirty savages’ and other decimating things like that. Lack of humanity with that one… I need a new word since there are more than humans in Thedas… so many things to learn.” I feel my face stretch into the ‘cat ate the canary’ face. (Darn you best buddy for naming all my faces.)

 

“Hm, in Ferelden, by chance?” Josie questions, but it looks like she’s got a name in mind.

 

“Pretty sure. Oh, and whoever’s wife ‘owns’ Haven, the husband is going to pay a visit in the future. Whining and complaining about this and that. Just tell him he can duel Cassandra if he thinks the Inquisition wasn’t a decree by the Divine.” I do a slightly evil chuckle. Leliana cocks a brow. “What? I hate ‘I’m holier than thou’ attitudes. Everyone has to wipe their butt just like the last person.” Cullen gives a hard snort before covering his mouth with his hand. I swear I hear a thehehe kind of laugh from behind Josie’s clipboard.

 

“In a sense, very true.” Cassandra looks… pleased! Course she hates the froufrou-ness of nobles too.

 

“Ok let’s seeeee,” I start playing with a Cullen piece again. “Scouts also need to have an ear to the ground about the Wardens while in the Hinterlands. I know that there is a Gray Warden somewhere around the lake, but that should be news about some rogue Warden or Warden-s along the Storm Coast. The one in the Hinterlands will be easier to find.” Not to mention if we can get Blackwall, pre-trip to Orlais, the imposter Lord Seeker was going to get a surprise.

 

“A Gray Warden in the Hinterlands?” Leliana is looking at me deeper so I just stare at the map, trying to pretend I’m bored with the idea.

 

“Yup, last I saw him, he was training up some locals to take on the bandits. Damn good fighter. _Hu-mon-gous_ bread.” I flail my hands under my chin to show it off. “Like birds could make nests in the thing.” That gets little laughs from everyone, _everyone_. Course, Cassandra is more of a ‘she can’t be serious’ scoff, but progress is progress.

 

“Now, for a tricky one.” I point at the little figure I stuck on Orlais. “We need to get word to and from Orlais as soon as possible.” I look to Leliana and Josie. “For a number of reasons, but leasts start with the most obvious. I am sure you lot have met the Chancellor by now?” I raise my eyebrows and swipe a hand out, asking for their opinions.

 

Cassandra ugh faced before going back to a disciplined one; Leliana gives an eye roll, and I grin.

 

“Y’all can’t say I didn’t tell youuuuu~” I snicker while leaning on the table.

 

“I can certainly see why you warned us about him. You are right, he is already blinded by ambition and would likely refuse to see reason.” Leliana nods, looking back at the board. “Is that why you suggest sending someone quickly?”

 

“Definitely one reason, and I’ll explain the others. He has the _potential_ of being decent, but you need to talk to him now. Talk to him like he’s two. That finding the new Divine will take too long, that there are others behind the scenes. That Trevelyan did what she did even though she was being ripped apart by the mark.” I drum my fingers. “Or what you guys see best. I instantly hated the guy from my visions. Blagh. Ok, other reasons to get word to Orlais. One: there is a potential to gather strong allies that wish to work directly alongside the Her-Trevelyan. Man, I got to quit saying that until the others do. Anyway, we need to start spreading word about us. Also, if we have them in place, we could spread news… faster? When we have new news to share?” I look up at Leliana, who nods. “Course, none of this is a surprise to Leliana, but we need to get word out before Trevelyan wakes up. Also, in the same thread, is there any way we can look for a Mercenary group called ‘Bull’s Chargers’?”

 

“Mercenaries, Fannon?” Josie looks a bit shocked and appalled. Cullen looks grumpy too.

 

“Hey hey hey, trust me on this. They are one of the best groups in Thedas. All I want to know if we can find where they are. They’d come looking for us eventually. I know we don’t have the coin, so just information.” I offer as I lean back again. God, I want a fidget toy right now.

 

“And why should we seek them out? We have our own troops to pay for.” Cullen’s ruffled, and adorable, but ruffled.

 

“One, the crew is going to seek us out anyway eventually. They… shouuuuld have just gotten done with some Tevinters and a huge ass giant. Prob is, I don’t know where. Two, they are good, especially the leader, The Iron Bull. He’s a _big ass_ Qunari who swings an axe about Josie’s size. Likes to fight dragons, which is good, cause I know the location of at least ten. High Dragons too.”

 

The word Qunari definitely gets Cullen’s lip turning.

 

“Hey, what did I say? I’m making _suggestions_ , in this case a strong one. But that’s what I can offer for now. If someone can get me a map of the general Hinterlands, I can point to places what can help build up the Inquisition rep. Other than-”

 

“ _Where are they_?” called a voice from the Chantry, and I immediately ‘uggghh’ed hard. Just as I stood up, the door slams open. The teen servant from before looked to have been pressing himself against the door, because he was pushed onto the floor by Roderick as he stomped his way in. My eyes followed the kiddo, watching as his elbow cracks against the stone hard. Roderick just steps over him and looks ready to shout at Leliana.

 

“APOLOGIZE!” I shout, feeling it catch a touch in my throat. Everyone looks at me. Roderick, first in surprise, then in indignation.

 

“Excuse me?!”

 

I’m around the table now, helping the kid stand while keeping his arm close to his body. He’s gritting his teeth in pain, which just sets me off more.

 

“Apologize to him! He did not need your abuse, Chancellor.” I mutter an ‘easy sweetie’ while rubbing his good arm.

 

Roderick looks like a codfish for a few more moments, before turning up his nose with a scoff. “He is but a servant. Next time he should not insist on getting in my way. I have important things to discuss. Be on your way, both of you.”

 

Oh, the shit I want to say. Call him out on his obvious small dick syndrome, call into question his manners for a man of the cloth, kick him _really_ fucking hard in the shin. What stopped me is the look on Leliana’s face from behind him. I catch two deliberate blinks and a quick snap to the door. I’d be an idiot to not listen to her.

 

“Messeres Pentaghast, Montilyet, Leliana, Commander Rutherford, I bid you good day. Thank you for listening to the concerns of this humble woman.” I do my best to curtsy before I escort the kiddo out. Outside, I plop him on a wall beach, and roll my eyes as the Chancellor already starts yelling like an idiot. “So sorry about that sweetie. How bad is the arm?” I kneel to be at his level and he looks at me bewildered.

 

“I’m-I’ll be alright, ser.” Jesus, his voice is just now cutting. Too damn young, but this is not America.

 

“Are you sure sweetie? I can go talk to your boss, and we can get you a break for a bit.” Dawww, he’s blushing. What for, don’t have a clue, but it’s adorable.

 

“Thank you, sir, but I’ll be alright.”

 

“Ok sweetie. Oh, what’s your name?” I stand up, mentally grr-ing at my stupid oldness.

 

“Aaron, Ser.”

 

“Alright, Aaron. I’m Ms. Fannon. If you change your mind and need an excuse, let me know.” I grin and wave before heading out again.

 

Outside, the feeling of Haven has changed. People who had previously kept their heads down and looked gloomy were talking with each other. Some were setting up better shop in areas, and I even saw some of the kiddos running around. Oh, I love warm fuzzies.

 

I hop around the corner to check my plants. I blink as I see a pale elf girl, _tiny_ with pixie cut platinum blonde hair, waving her hands over the them with a very determined look on her face. I walk over to her, though she jumps and hides her hands. Not only tiny, but young?

 

“Hi there, sweetie. You’ve been doing a great job on my plants. Did you try the spell on the one in the pot?” I point behind her, but blink at the mix of horror and disbelief in her super bright green eyes. “Oh sweetie, I’m not mad. If you want to help them grow, that’s great!”

 

She shrinks even more into herself while watching me. Oh, that hurts; I’ve scared the tiny. “I promise I’m not mad. I just came to check on them. How about I go to the far end to check for weeds?” I wave at her, giving her space. Gloves on, check around the different buds, not really seeing anything extra, but I wanted her to relax.

 

I’m singing _Winter Wonderland_ , fitting considering all the snow, turning as I hear the crunch of shoes coming over.

 

“Is-Is it really ok, Messere?” Aww, what a cute accent. Way thicker than Leliana’s but a high voice.

 

“Of course, sweetie. I didn’t even know there was a growing spell. Do you know what these are?” I point to the little buds. “These are all elfroot. You’re helping us keep our potions up. Good job.” Whoa, can elf ears go red. I pat the ground next to me, and slowly she kneels. “You are doing a great job. What’s your name?”

 

“Elola, Messere.”

 

“Hi Elola, you can call me Ms. Fannon. Now, don’t use up all your magic while helping the plants. Don’t need you falling asleep on them. I don’t even see weeds though.” I look all over each row.

 

“There-There shouldn’t be. We were taught to focus our spell into only the holes. The footprints help the seeds stand out. The one in the pot is-well, it’s been a…” She flusters, chewing her lip.

 

“It’s a Royal Elfroot. Guess it would be the problem child of my seedlings.” A tiny gigglesnort is her reply, making me grin. “Promise not to overwork yourself?”

 

“Promise, Messere.”

 

“Good; also, if anyone gives you crap about the magic, come find me please. I’ll do my best to set them straight.” Yeah, my ‘hey dumbass, we need these plants. Take your profiling somewhere useful.’

 

She nods before her hands shine again, making a little grr face as she tries to work the Royal. I scratch at a sudden tickle going down my sides as I stand up. I head off to walk around Haven, not really having anywhere in mind. I slip on my earphones, that turn out to look a lot like everyday earmuffs to them, and move around town. I notice that my humming gets me looks and a few whispers. I’ll care about that when I get home. My mind always replays possible bad things I did throughout the day. I blink as a few people wave at me, smiling even. I timidly smile back, trying to remember if I had seen them. They head off soon after and I head to the front of town.

 

Seggrit has arrived and is starting to set up shop. I offer to help him unload, but he dismisses me with a ‘too big a chance for someone to make off with something.’ I shrug and loop over to pass close to the Herald’s cabin. I join the many who are peeking in, though I wave a little at seeing Adan and Solas working together. She looks fevered, might even be in the middle of a bad dream based on her thrashing. Solas gives me a little hello nod before summoning some ice to rest on her forehead. I back off and head to the training yard.

 

Whooo boy, are the soldiers busy. The newer ones are in lines 3 by 4 in different groups, facing a senior. The more seasoned soldiers are dueling each other like they do in game. I grin as I see some smithy people chipping away at the iron I helped find yesterday.

 

Helply-helperton. I snort before wondering if Cole and I will get along. Another wave of I’m really in Thedas hits me, making me walk quickly to the few trees nearby. I sit against one and flip my earphones from my iPod into my phone. I pull up my most recent video of the nephews. It’s Dennis’ first birthday. He ended up smashing his cake, unlike big brother Tristan. I covered my phone and let my head rest on my bent knees. I listened as Tristan cheered for Dennis to smash it. ‘Smash it, bubby, smash it’.

 

I will never forgive that fucking wolf.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agreements are made and Fannon starts collecting the small babies of Haven.

_I pull up my most recent video of the nephews. It’s Dennis’ first birthday. He ended up smashing his cake, unlike big brother Tristan. I covered my phone and let my head rest on my bent knees. I listened as Tristan cheered for Dennis to smash it. ‘Smash it, bubby, smash it’._

_I will never forgive that fucking wolf._

 

 

I guess some time passes; I went through all my videos twice. I feel the vibration of someone tapping on my tree. I look up, snotty nose and all, to see Cassandra of all people. I sniffle and quickly put away my things, hoping she doesn’t notice the extra light from my phone.

 

“Sorry, hav-having a moment.”

 

“You were crying last night as well,” she comments as she kicks a spot free of snow before sitting. “What is upsetting for you?”

 

“… I am actually _in_ Thedas. I can’t tell you how often I dreamed and thought about this place. But it was a fantasy… and I’m here. My parents, nephews, my best friend… they will-will never have any idea what happened to me.” I squish my head back against my knees as fresh tears started.

 

“You are alone.”

 

More than you think Cassandra. Once the Herald woke up, everyone was going to go off to the Hinterlands or be super busy. I just have to hope Varric has time to get me started.

 

“I am sorry. I-I did not think about what coming here might have meant to you.”

 

“You’ve been more than a little preoccupied.” I look at her and give a tiny lip curl.

 

She’s looking off to the soldiers. She’s a little less stiff in the neck now. I look over and notice Cullen yelling at some people before pulling a shield and entering the fight. “Go Commander.” I say mostly to myself.

 

Cassandra gives a small cuff laugh. We both watching as Cullen flips what seems to have been a disrespectful recruit ass over end, the training sword to his throat. “This is one of the few times I’ve been Cullen in action.”

 

“He was a good Templar. Very diligent in his training.” I nod at Cassie’s compliment, remembering his story of how he came to the order. Hell, he was doing this shit while still in full armor. The muscles he must have under that…

 

Hello again gutter.

 

“I think… we should talk.” Ah sheeeeit. DISTRACT!

 

“My favorite color is teal, the same color as my sleeping shirt. My accent comes from being in this little triangle of land between three different states. I taught in a separate country for 4 years and brought my two kitties back from there. My best friend, well one of them, was in my government’s military service for 3 years. She had a daughter about 2 months ago. Her name is Fiona and she had so. much. _hair_ when she was born.” Cassandra’s looking at me confused. “So, do you want to talk to me about _me_ or my visions?”

 

That pricked something she was thinking of, because she turned back to watch Cullen. I distracted myself by looking for Harritt. The smithy was in full form now, and it looked like he was pounding some armor into shape.

 

“You… are right. I want to blame someone. Someone I can take hold of and… I want so badly to avenge Most Holy.” Cassandra’s not looking at me, but I bet she can see me give her my attention from the corner of her eye.

 

“Cassandra, I know you are a fantastic fighter and devote in your faith. But, I think you try to see yourself as a one-person army. Our enemy _ripped open the sky!!_ He is not someone that’s going to be that intimidated by a single woman with a sword. Now, a whole bunch of us together, different story.”

 

She was still looking forward, so I sighed and played with my dress. A song crept into my mind, and after chewing on my lip for a second, I tried it.

 

_It’s been a long day, without you my friend_

_And I’ll tell you all about it when I see you again_

_We’ve come a long way, from where we began_

_And I’ll tell you all about it when I see you again._

 

She had stilled and listened, and after my cord she turned to me. “I know you miss her Cassandra. What happened at the Conclave _wasn’t_ your fault. It was no one’s but the ones involved.” We stared at each other, until she sighed and nodded. PROGRESS!

 

“Perhaps I need time. Time to accept what we both know is true. In that time, however, I will work so that I have a more open mind with you.” Cassandra offers me her hand this time. I take it eagerly.

 

“Long as there are no more grab-ies, I’ll keep out of your way.”

 

That… does not have the effect I expected. She flinches before looking at my arm. Oh, I think, as I look down. My sleeve has come up a bit and I can see most of a purple palm print on the inside of my arm. “Would elfroot paste take care of this? I bruise really easy. Remember in the dungeon? I had a huge bruise, then too.”

 

“Please, Fannon. Do-do not make light of this. Let us see to it at once.” She stands up and offers her hand. I give her a little wave off; pretty sure my fat ass would pull her over. Still, I get up and follow after her. Passing Cullen, and waving, we head back up the stairs, only to meet up with Varric.

 

“There you are, Songbird. Went looking for you at the Chantry, but the meeting was already over. Thought we’d head to the tavern to work on your studies while I work on this pen of yours.” I beam at the dwarf, bouncing on my feet.

 

“She-she is in need of treatment first Varric.” Cassandra commented. Oh, did the air just get colder? I swear, for a brief second, Varric looked _mad_. Does Varric even do mad? Frustrated yes, but mad?

 

“What treatment is required?” comes the soft voice of Solas as he approaches us.

 

“A proper good morning, Solas- ** _seonsaeng-nim_** … oh wait, sorry. Slipped into an extra language there. Good morning, _Hahren_.” I offer as I turn to look. “I have a bruise, nothing that elfroot can’t fix. Where can we pick some up?” I blink as all of them look at me. “Oh, sorry, it means teacher in the other country I lived it. It’s called Korea.”

 

“What’s the name of your home country, then, Songibrd?” Varric waves us toward the tavern. Solas reaches into his green vest and offers me a small jar of paste.

 

“Thanks, Solas, and my home country is called America. I was in Korea for four years teaching them Eng-Common. I picked up bits and pieces of their language. So, if I answer you with a ‘neh’, I’m saying yes. Other bits might come out, but I’m getting better.” I walk a little ahead of Varric and get to the door first, opening it for all. Just in time for a messenger to come running for Cassandra. Of course, the fucking Chancellor needed her again. “How about we save you a mug of water, Cassie?” She gives me a nod before following.

 

“Well, looks like your charms are working, Songbird.” I snort, _hard,_ covering my mouth to hopefully stop the laughs this time.

 

“Charms, my dear Kirkwall-ian? Not in my lifetime. I-Well, I think she’s starting to come down off her emotions-high. Now that we have a few days to breathe, I think she’ll start thwacking the training dummies.” We all sit in our table, I pull out my papers while Varric waves over Flissa. “And no food, Varric. I still don’t have the coin. Already ate too.” The dwarf gives me an eyeroll, making me grin. Three waters, one ale for Varric, and two plates of food are ordered. Flissa smiles softly before leaving, resting her palm against my shoulder for a second. I’m gonna take that as a ‘sorry you were upset yesterday’ touch. “Alright, learning time. Can we start with the numbers? The spelling and the numeric forms? Seems like the easiest.”

 

The numeric forms were easy. I now had a copy of 1-9, 10, 20, 30, etc., 1000 and up to play with. It’d be some practice, but I could find tons of things to count around town. I rolled up my sleeves and started on counting the number of soldiers I had seen in the field just as a tingling chill took over my arm. I eep, jerk it back and look up just in time to see a worried Varric and a disappointed? Solas looking at my arm. “Oh, right. I borrowed your elfroot paste and didn’t even use it.” I fish into my bag and pull out the jar.

 

“It would be faster if I were to heal it directly, Fannon.” Solas offers, while Varric is starting to look grumpy. Ugh, even slightly grumpy Varric is a horrendous sight.

 

“Not to worry, _Hahren_. I bruise super easy. It’d be a waste of your magic.” I lather the hand print in a thin layer of the paste and moved it off the table. Didn’t need the flakes getting all over everything.

 

“And here I thought she was finally calming down.” Varric’s voice was definitely disappointed.

 

“I think she is. We had a bit of a shouting/cussing out match in the Chantry after she grabbed me. She is in mourning and wants to find the person responsible. It’s understandable.” No use in trying to pretend the mark on my arm wasn’t put there by some _one_. The finger marks were rather distinctive.

 

“Understandable and excusable are two different things, Fannon.” Solas’ cool demeanor is back. Is that his mask of internally angry?

 

“Meh. We had a better talk outside the gates. Hopefully she’ll get it all out of her system on the training dummies.” I watch the flakes fall off to reveal a yellowed bruise that still looks very handprint-ly. I pout and just roll my sleeve back down. I unclip my bracelet and wrap it around my sleeve instead, hopefully to remind myself not to re-roll it. Solas’ eyes catch on my bracelet, but he doesn’t say anything. “Alright, gents, I’ve got my study material for the day. Time to work on the pen?”

 

Indeed, it was. I continue working on my numbers while Varric and Solas work on designs. Varric is rather impressed by Solas’s art skill, which was no surprise to me at all. I have to open up all my pens to show off the different ink sticks inside, but Solas follows my comment about metal inkwells inside fountain pens and does a few doodles of those.

 

We are actually moving on to the ideas of pencils, the little wooden ones with graphite inside that I know of, when Cassandra comes in. I hop up to a larger nearby table and start setting us up. Varric and Solas take the side opposite me, making Cassandra, now with a small glass of wine and a mug of water, sit by me. She is stunned by all of the doodles and explanations coming from all three of us at once.

 

I’m trying to make a multiplication chart with my Thedas numbers when I feel the cool tingle again. “ _Hahren_ , quit trying to waste your magic. I’m fine.” I have a too snooty voice going, and I look up to smile. His head is slightly cocked.

 

“I did not see you cast.” Cassandra says in a questioning tone, though I also notice a stiffening of her shoulders. Ughhh, Seekers and Templars and their stupid fears.

 

“I was attempting to use just my one finger, but it would seem Fannon is exceptionally sensitive to magic in general.” Solas was partly amused/curious, but mostly serious in his addressing of Cassie.

 

Cassandra looked at me with a bit of confusion. I shrugged and tapped my covered arm gently. She stiffened even more. “Could it be because there’s no magic in my country?” I question to him as I take out my notebook. Damn, it’s already filling up; wonder if I can do some more errands for other people and get a few coppers started. I flip to my ‘Theories of Thedas’ page and look to him again.

 

“I would say it is a possibility, though you would need to be exposed to a number of different magics. Now, please Fannon, your arm.” I pout, but there’s no way I can say no to the ‘serious Solas’ face. I still sigh heavily as I roll up my sleeve. “Such sounds do nothing to help your earlier claims, _da’len_.” I pout more, then play glare at the heh-heh-heh laugh Varric does. I hiss at the cold that soon coats my arm. “Tell me what you feel, Fannon.”

 

“It feels like a sheet of ice coating my arm! Gah, my fingers are going numb.” I don’t pull my arm away, but boy do I squirm in my chair.

 

“Interesting. Most people say healing spells feel more like a gentle cooling.” One more wave over my arm and the bruise is gone.

 

“Thank you,” I say aloud before muttering, “still a waste of magic” as I wiggle my arm to and fro.

 

“Since I am the one with the magic, I believe it should be my decision whether or not it is a waste, _da’len_.” Oh, the mildly disappointed face of his, directed _at_ me?! Not good.

 

“Yes, sorry _Hahren_ ,” Eyes dig back into my notebook, adding that I was touchy to magic.

 

“Running out of book already, Songbird?” Everyone is looking as I write so I offer the page. A range of confusion passes on all of their faces, making me give a cheeky grin.

 

“Now you guys know how I feel looking at Common. And yes, sadly. I was thinking I might be able to run a few extra out-of-the-way errands. Best guess at how much a new journal would cost, my dear author?” I cock my own head at Varric’s dismissively brush off.

 

“Give me a week, Songbird and I can get a couple for you.” I angry wrinkle my nose and wave him off back.

 

“Not having it, Varric. I know enough things around town to earn a small wage. Put your money back towards Kirkwall.” We stare at each other, waiting for the other to agree. Pity he doesn’t know how stubborn I am when it comes to taking something for nothing or owing favors.

 

“Neither option is necessary.” I look to Cassandra, who for the first time, smiles a bit at me. “For your assistance over the last few days, we have agreed on a small stipend.” She sets a small coin purse in front of me while I blink owlishly.

 

“… But I didn’t do anything,” I move to push the coins back, but her hand comes down as a block.

 

“You have done plenty. If the information you have given us continues to be helpful, we are thinking of providing you with a monthly stipend.”

 

At this point, I’ve curled my toes, stiffened my legs, crossed my arms over my chest, and puffed up my face because _OMG I haven’t done anything!!_ I sure as hell can’t go galloping off to the Hinterlands or Orlais or any other noteworthy place. But, I know better than to look a generous gift horse in the mouth. Breathing out my air, I take my little purse and stuff it into my bag. “Thank you, Cassandra.”

 

The three share a look, likely about my immature behavior, but we try getting back to business. I am going back over how we cut a small stick of wood in half to put the graphite between them, (turns out, Thedas has the same word!) when little Elola comes running in. She all red in the face, and I’m up in an instant, fearing she’s been crying. She starts bouncing on her feet in front of me pointing at the door.

 

“Messere! I got it! I got it to start growing!” Oh, she so proud of herself! OH, I just wanna squish her to pieces, but she’s too tiny.

 

“Good job, Elola!” I offer a one arm hug, which she quickly takes. A few breaths later, though, she starts sagging into my side. “Uh oh, you used up your magic, didn’t you?” Her face digs into my ribs to hide. “And after you promised me, too.” I pet her hair before swinging the two of us to my chair. I take a seat before boosting her up into my lap. She leans her cheekbone on my shoulder and rests.

 

“Now, who’s this little one? Couldn’t have gotten yourself a kid already, Songbird.” Varric grins, waving a little as Elola peeks an eye open to look at my company.

 

“This is Elola. She was the one, or at least one of the ones, who worked on my plants last night. Met her after the meeting this morning. Looks like she’s a bit stubborn thouuuugh, cause she promised me not to use up all her magic.” I grin as the tiny girl hides her face in my neck again. I hug her a bit, though Solas’ face catches my attention. He looks… uncomfortable with Elola so close. I had no idea he didn’t like kids. Pooo, the idea of Solas teaching classes with me is out the window.

 

“Is she a mage from Val Royeaux?” Cassandra is wide-eyed, and I can imagine. She was the one in the White Spire nearly two decades ago and all the crazy carp with the last Lord Seeker. I boop the sleepy mage once, to which she nods, and yawns. So cute. I rock her tiny frame slowly, starting on my dad’s lullabies again.

 

“Those songs have lyrics, Songbird?” Varric muses while straightening up our table.

 

I grin before starting over. “ _Twinkle, twinkle, little star… rock-a-bye baby, on the treetop… Deep in the Hundred Acre woods…”_ I stop after Winnie the Pooh because she is doing the cutest breathy snort-snores I’ve heard in ages.

 

“I believe I can see why you are a teacher in your country.” Cassandra comments, smiling softly at the dozing mage.

 

“Surprised you’re not a mom already, myself.” Varric downs the last of his ale.

 

“Ah, but for one, it takes two to tango, and I’m not very interested. Plus, no one has asked me.” Not even close. Been on one date. ONE. Much easier to fall for someone in a story, or game hehe, than to trust my level of crazy with someone else.

 

“No one at all has asked for your attention?” Cassie sounds a bit stunned; Varric is smirking into his mug, and Solas just does that slight head tilt since he _knows_.

 

“Well, in my country’s culture, my squishiness is very unattractive to a great number of people. Not to mention my level of emotions, sensitivity, and overall craziness tends to put people off after a few months. If other people get a chance to experience love, I cheer for them. Unless their romance interferes with their work. Taught a lot of teenagers who let love, and really sex, go to their heads.”

 

“I tell you what, Songbird. If we could keep your figure, but shrink you down to dwarf size, I’d bet you’d have all the men in Orzammar after you.” Varric offered and I flushed under the idea of someone being attracted _to me_.

 

“You, messere, are a lying sack of crud, but the lie is appreciated.” Cue a disappointed/amused/ what the hell is that look going across his features.

 

I jump, clutching Elola, as the tavern door slams open and Adan comes rushing in. “Lady Cassandra, I need to bring the elf to the Herald’s cabin. She is trying to wake.” The initial flare up of temper at him not using Solas’ name was snuffed out by the news. The others threw glances at me, but I was too stunned to comment. That was definitely out of line with the story I knew.

 

“The Herald, Adan?” Solas asks while standing.

 

“The Herald of Andraste. The woman who closed the Breach. The Royal Elfroot the seer found,” and he’s looking at me! I hug Elola tighter and hide my face in her hair. The rest of the conversation is drowned out by my rushing heart. Shit, crap, mother fucking shit sprinkles on pop-tarts!

 

The moving of chairs is the thing that draws me out of Elola’s hair. Both Cassandra and Solas are leaving, though Solas looks back and gives the little nod as a goodbye. Varric’s watching me, waiting for the chance.

 

I lean my head back and groan as the door closes. “Well, that is different. Course, I hadn’t seen any Royal Elfroot around Haven before either… Varric, you _are_ staying around for a bit longer?”

 

“Hm? That’s an interesting way to ask that.” He didn’t exactly answer, so I explained.

 

“Cassandra’s given you the ‘you’re clear to go’ by now, right?”

 

“She did.” I pout at his short answer. He’s smirking, waiting for me to explain. UGGGGHHH… I need to quit thinking in Cassie voice.

 

“I have…” I look around and note that for now no one is listening. “I have seen you stay. Mainly because, as we both know, you are actually a good guy. But this shi-stuff is weird, and I very much doubt anyone would blame you for running for the hills.” I wave my non-cuddling-Elola-to-my-chest hand at him for him to continue the conversation.

 

“I’d like to think of myself as selfish and irresponsible as the next guy,” he starts, but ends up shaking his head. “This is too big. Even if ran to Kirkwall, that thing threatens all of Thedas.”

 

“Yup. Oh, speaking of Kirkwall, did you hear about a place called Black Emporium?”

 

“Ah, shit, you’ve heard of that _too?”_ A murmur from Elola has me scowling at him.

 

“Language, Varric.” He snorts before waving his hands in surrender. “Yes, _heard_ of it. Is there any chance the army or certain likely-to-be-very-respected members could get an invite?”

 

“If this thing pans out like you're hinting at, very likely. I’ll try to get in touch with some people, if I can get a raven out from under Nightingale and Ruffles. I’ve seen dozens, leaving the Chantry since this morning.”

 

“Doesn’t surprise me. I’m trying to get things done faster than what I’ve seen them. By the wayyyyy, you might want to think of letting all your friends know you are safe.” I adjust Elola and try to pick up some of my papers one handed. As I reach for those closer to Varric, I _stare_ at him. I have no idea if my attempts at mentally screaming ‘Get ahold of Hawke’ are passed through my eyes, but hell, I’m trying.

 

He makes no changes in his expression until Elola gives a little ‘I don’t wanna get up’ whine. After that, he chuckles low and starts sweeping things in a pile and handing them to me. “Turning in early tonight, Songbird? Not even proper dinner time.”

 

“I have clothes to wash, blankets to fluff, and a cabin to settle.” I plop everything back into the purse, before tapping my little elf awake. She grumbled again. “Sorry sweetie, but I’ve got to take you home now.” I set her down, grinning as she loops her hand around mine while the other is rubbing at her eye. “Where are little mages staying, if you know Varric.”

 

“Think Curly’s got most of the harrowed mages in town, but apostates and little ones like Lala here are outside the gates, closer to the smithy. Now Songbird, that’s not my call.” I would ponder how the man knew what I was thinking, but I can feel my face entering the ‘GRRRRR’ phase, I pat my cheeks to get a hold of myself before gently escorting Elola at of the tavern.

 

The scene outside is definitely familiar, even if it is really early. Groups of people lined the other side of town, whispering and confirming with each other. Elola was curious, but I promised her that she could meet the Herald another time. At least after a nap. The stone steps were mostly full, but the three of us nudged our way through on the left side. We slipped around Seggrit and quickly down the outside stairs. I just catch sight of Cassandra through the Herald’s window as we passed. So not fully up at least.

 

Outside, most of the soldiers were waiting at the gate, hoping to get peeks. I waved to Cullen again as we pass; he cocked his head in confusion of my little tagalong. My increasingly sleepy tagalong, and I have to wonder if I am strong enough to carry a potentially 50-60 pound child.

 

“I got this,” called Varric, making me and Elola stop and look at him. “Come here, Lala.” The little girl looks at Varric’s open arms and I notice now that she even shorter than the dwarf. She accepts his offer with true child innocence, setting her cheek to his shoulder and arms around his neck. He lifts her up without a care, and I have to bite into my fist to stop the ‘OMG SO CUTEEEEE’ squeals trying to get out of me. He gives a little smirk, and we are off again.

 

We almost reach the part of the entrance path that narrows upon the sides toward the gate before we found the other mages. Turns out the unharrowed mages are being watched over by three Templars, one who was Lysette. They were all surprised, and maybe a bit defensive, about our arrival with Elola. “Hello. This little one was helping me with some plants and tuckered herself out. Where does she sleep?”

 

“She’s over in that tent, ser.” Lysette is at least polite, though I do remember her character being so. It’s a small tent, shared by a 15-year-old human girl. Turns out these two have been together for 3 years, since Elola arrived at the tower. Also turns out Elola is 10! Good lord, elves are tiny. I grin as I finish tucking her in before heading back to inner Haven with the author.

 

“Do I need to tell you how sweet you are, Varric?” I beam as he scoffs and makes shooing motions at me.

 

“Still trying to ruin my reputation I see.”

 

“Did you ever have to carry one of the gang home?”

 

“You know, I did. Merrill several times over the years. Easy, she’s about the size of Ruffles and slimmer. Had to carry Hawke over my shoulders once. Luckily, we were visiting Fenris; didn’t have to lug her through Lowtown _and_ Hightown. Broody took over getting her in the house.” He grins at his memories. I smile too, thinking about all the happy years they had together. Approaching the gate, though, we have to stop at the foot of the stairs. Trevelyan is up.

 

She’s walking through the crowd, shaking a number of peoples’ hands, and sounds like she’s saying some part of the chant with them. Not sure; hated the Chantry since Origins. “Don’t think we’re getting you back into town soon… I’m going to go bug Cullen.” I turn on my foot and set off, grinning at the flabbergast expression on Varric’s face. Yup, my attention changes in an instant.

 

Cullen is easy to find. He’s set up a little work-desk outside one large tent that is part of a lineup on the outer wall. The Commander has a little folding chair, which he is currently sitting on, writing on some parchment. “Afternoon Commander,” I call as I approach him. He looks up, nodding to me, before focusing back on his work. I stand next to the desk, not making heads or tails of the reports. “I saw you earlier. Can’t believe you got that guy to flip!”

 

The scowl on his face is frightening, but at least I’m 90% sure it has _nothing_ to do with me. “His footwork was abysmal; I can’t believe someone like that truly thinks he’s ready for the field. He’ll get himself killed in an instant, and possibly others in the wake.”

 

“That’s why he needs you directing him. You made him eat dirt in front of others. Now, either he shapes up like a recruit or his ego and pride get in the way and he does something even stupider. ‘Challenging you to a duel’ levels of stupid. You’ll get everyone on track, no worries.”

 

That little disbelieving scoff returns, and he looks at me now. “I certainly wish I had your insight into these matters.”

 

“Not so much insight in this case. Confidence. What good is a Commander if he can’t back up what he teaches? If he lords himself over the troops that he can’t scuff up his armor. You proved yourself to be one of the team, so to speak, when you got in there to directly address Mr. Mouth Off. You didn’t put anyone else in to whip him. People respect those who put their money where their mouth is.”

 

Dawww he’s going shy again… shitwait! “Oh, did that come out as flirting again?! I’m not flirting! I am complimenting a truth.”

 

He snorts while shaking his head before standing. Is it weird that I _like_ being short in comparison to him? “That one did not sound like flirting, but I thank you for your confidence, Fannon.” Gahhh, he’s so cute! I could just eat him all-

 

DAMNIT GUTTER, NOT NOW!

 

“Best get ready for another meeting, Cullen. If all goes well, you’ll be summoned to meet with her formally and likely announce the Inquisition tonight or in the morning.” I reach up to fluff up his mantle and pull at the tunic to smarten him up. “There you are, looking every bit like the Commander you are.” He’s even redder now. “Complimenting!”

 

He... smiles at me, looking at me fully. It’s friendly. It’s beautiful.

 

I am beet.fucking.red by the time he slides past me to head into town. I fast walk for my cabin. Jesus, now is _not_ the time to remember how badly I’ve crushed on Cullen in game. The adorable stammering and _running_ away from Amell. The embarrassment over the Blooming Rose. But then, there were the bad sides of Cullen. The horrible purple circle under his eyes while in Kirkwall. The ‘Mages are not people like you or I’ to Hawke. I turn to watch him. He commands a clean path, and everyone obliges him. I remember his talks with the Herald about mages.

 

But I have to remember that I’m not in a game. Things are already different. Is this the Cullen that is more open minded towards mages that I know of? That was the whole reason ‘Cullen as the love interest’ was my second longest save file. I sigh, chew my lower lip for a second, before continuing off for home. I need to wash clothes.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trevelyan wakes up and the Inquisition in officially declared.

Trevelyan was more than a little surprised to be awake again. She had submitted herself to the will of the Maker when she had reached up for the Breach. She was sure she would never see Thedas again. Instead, she woke to the gentle conversation between Lady Cassandra and the elf, Solas. A third person, a man, was the closest to her side, holding a bottle in his hands.

 

“My lady,” the man said, causing both of her former teammates to look. The man beside her took her head in his hand, propping her up before resting the bottle on her lips. It was an elfroot potion of some kind, but the bitter aftertaste wasn’t there. A warming over took her muscles, letting her breath easier. She finished sitting up on her own.

 

“What-What happened?” Her throat for rough, and she coughed twice to try to clear it.

 

“The Breach is stable. Your efforts have granted many a sigh of relief, Lady Trevelyan.” Solas offered while kneeling next to her. A gentle wave of power passed on the edges of his fingers and coated her throat. The coolness of the spell made it almost immediately easier to swallow. She nodded her thanks as he stood up.

 

“When you say stable…” Her eyes turned to both of them again, watching the disappointment cross Pentaghast features. “I did all I could.” Her hands reach up to catch the defeated sinking of her own head.

 

“We do not blame you, my lady. Nor do we believe you are responsible for the Breach to begin with. However,” Trevelyan looked up at the Nevarrain, “We are _hoping_ that you might continue to help us.”

 

Trevelyan saw a look of pleading beyond the outward stoic look of the woman. The redhead looked down at her left palm. The Mark was narrower, dimmer even, but Marina could still feel it tingling in her bones. She flexed her fingers, feeling an unnatural chill running through them, but no pain. That was a relief. She lifted her right hand and ran her fingers from her eye down to her chin, following the path of her scars. Was it really a question?

 

“Of course, Lady Cassandra.” She moved to stand, reaching for Adan’s shoulder in case her balance was compromised. It wasn’t, much to her surprise. “How long have I been at rest?”

 

“Not even a full day, Herald. The Sooth-Sayer had found some Royal Elfroot before you had departed for the mountain. She also delivered a number of helpful technique notes to me, allowing me to make a superior potion. Ser Solas was also helpful in keeping the potion ingredients at the right temperature.” Adan looked to Solas, leaving Marina to her thoughts. Herald? Sooth-Sayer must be Fannon, especially with all the other things she has claimed.

 

“I am happy to be of service, though I have a request for you later, Ser Adan.” Solas nodded his head a bit in a humble gesture. Still so talkative, but Marina could now recognize his voice as soothing.

 

“How do you feel, Trevelyan?” Cassandra stepped closer to her, looking her up and down.

 

“I could use a bit more sleep, but it is not an immediate concern. Though I would like to request a change of clothes.” She gestured down to the same clothes she wore yesterday.

 

“Of course,” Cassandra pointed to a nearby chest. “We have prepared a few outfits. Though, we were not expecting you to be awake so soon.”

 

“It would seem the Sooth-Sayer’s visions are not completely correct all the time.” The elf mused softly before looking to Adan. “I believe it is best to leave the ladies in peace, sir.” Trevelyan watched the two men leave before striping herself with quick efficiency.

 

The freckles that dotted her face covered her shoulders, but stop there. The rest of her rose-tinted skin was blemish-free save for the other three scars that came from her right hip up to her navel. Both sets of scars were given to her when she had spoken out against the Ostwick Circle. She had been lucky; Maxwell had been close at hand to help her. She stilled, hands on her moderate breasts, looking over to Cassandra. “Has-has there been any mage named Maxwell that survived the explosion, Cassandra?”

 

Cassandra cast her eyes quickly to the floor, giving Marina a loud enough answer. She would need time to herself later; danger was still in the air for now. She finished striping the breast band, not noticing her small pebbled nipples as she slipped on a new one. Fresh underlings over her red curls, followed by well-seasoned leather pants. A belt to hold the slightly large pants before an off-white tunic. A deep-green set of leather armor over her chest with matching gauntlets completed her outfit for now. “What needs to happen now?” Marina turned to the Seeker.

 

“You will meet with a few others. The Left Hand of the Divine, the Commander of her army and our newly arrived Ambassador.” Cassandra spoke, reaching to the corner by the bookcase and handing over the mace and shield Marina had used yesterday.

 

“And Fannon? When will I meet her?” Cassandra looks surprised, but no longer angry at the mention of the woman’s name. Something has happened while she was unconscious

 

“I think that would be wise. I will send for her after we speak with the others.” Cassandra opened the door for them to go out.

 

Both women were shocked the crowds that had gathered, lining all the way to the town center. Solas was waiting by the cabin, looking out curiously at the crowd as they stepped to him. “It seems the town is quite excited to meet the Hero of the day.” Trevelyan looks at the taller man, noting an undercurrent of amused incredulity in his words.

 

“I am no one’s Hero. The Maker has willed that I be able to help in this time of tragedy, and I will do so.” Marina noticed that same disbelieving smirk from before. She was appreciative of his fighting skills, but was interested in where is faith lie. She stepped forward.

 

Immediately whispers and not whispers called out to her. ‘Lady Herald’, ‘Your Worship’ with many of the speakers reaching out for her blessing. She could provide no such thing, but confirmed her belief with them that the Maker would not leave them during this trying time.

 

The elf mage made his way ahead of the two women, who stopped and prayed with more and more of the townsfolk. The entrance of Ser Varric to the crowd of faces made Trevelyan smile slightly. “Varric, would you please meet us at the Chantry?”

 

“No problem, Fishie,” Marina drew herself up in confusion at the name. She was quite sure she had told them all her name. The dwarf’s eyes twinkled with mischief at her expression, tapping his finger to his nose. “Nicknames; I got lots of ‘em.” He then turned and worked his way around the people. Marina mentally smirked; there was no way the dwarf could have known that Fishie had been a favorite nickname of an uncle.

 

Closer to the Chantry, Marina began to hear unsettling gossip. A few were questioning if she had truly tried to close the Breach. Others were whispering about the Grand Chancellor, the worm, and his fight to have her arrested. A soft-spoken rumor said that he had been in a large verbal fight with the Right and Left hands earlier that day. A part of Trevelyan wished it hadn’t only been verbal.

 

Inside the Chantry, many people moved at a frantic pace. A dwarf woman was commanding a small group of soldiers, checking off a list of supplies. Several different servants had numerous ravens at the ready while other soldiers were making copies of prewritten proclamations. Leliana was speaking with hooded scout in Orlesian. Trevelyan knew enough of the language to note that this scout would be sent alone and must remain invisible. The redhead caught her looking, nodded at her and Cassandra, and pointed out a back room. Marina nodded in greeting and followed Cassandra.

 

Inside the room was a large map, already decorated with a number of strategy pieces. Varric was standing to the side, next to a chair, studying a piece that stood on the Marches. Marina notices a second piece, this one a bird, over Ostwick. She picks up the piece, running it over her fingers. “It seems there are already a number of plans in place.”

 

“Suggestions made by Fannon. Some of them need to be confirmed directly with you, Trevelyan. Others are requests for information. Excuse me, I will gather the others.” Cassandra nodded as she exited, leaving Trevelyan to study the map.

 

“Ideas, Ser Varric?” Though unused to dealing with non-humans, manners seemed the best course in these times. The sly smirk from the dwarf, however, at calling him Ser gave Trevelyan the immediate impression he wasn’t one for titles.

 

“Oh, Songbird has already given me some clues into what she’s thinking. Not sure she realizes how much she’s given up though. Then again, pretty sure if we ask her directly, she’d spill every little thing she knows.” His broad fingers move slowly over the Free Marches, tapping on Starkhaven while looking mildly disgusted.

 

“Is she one to be trusted, Varric? Not her visions; she herself.” Marina had a sense that the dwarf was strangely very good at reading people..

 

The dwarf gave a short bark of a laugh, his face softening briefly to almost that of someone thinking fondly of a family member. “She’s nauseatingly sweet. Stubborn too; doesn’t like anyone helping her with anything. Wants to spend all her time helping others. Sensitive, rather quick to cry, singing or humming all the time. Fantastic with kids.” He looked up from the map, his nearly orange eyes laughing. “Can’t take a compliment though. She can be trusted. She can’t lie for shit, I promise.”

 

They both turn to the door as it opened. Marina turned and quickly analyzed the two new people.

 

The man in full armor must be the Commander of the Divine’s new army. His golden eyes were weary in their depths, but on the surface, he looked well-tempered and professional. A slight incline of his head was his immediate greeting. His skin tone was akin to her own and he even sported a facial scar. His took up the top of the right side of his upper lip. A rectangle face, framed by high cheekbones, a hard jaw line and square chin with another small scar in the middle gave the man a handsome appearance. Several days’ worth of dark stubble and the dark, full eyebrows offset his much lighter hair. A very gentle scent of pine and animal fat made Marina think the man’s hair was kept back by some gel. The rest of him was framed as a solid soldier and Marina felt confident that the Divine had chosen her Commander well. He moved to the far side of the table, while Leliana took more of a head position.

 

The other woman had to be either Rivian or Antivan in lineage and Trevelyan was going to lean toward Antivan for now. A bit shorter than Marian herself, she walked with the gait and purpose of a long-standing noble. Her black hair was done in a delicate, but easily managed pattern that framed her diamond shaped face. She looked beautifully put together from her eyeshadow to her gentle lipsheen. The gray eyes, while young, were worldly and her body was of fit frame. She held a clipboard with a lit candle in the crock of her arm, smiling to Trevelyan as she took to the right of various.

 

Cassandra stood next to her and began the introductions. “May I present Commander Cullen, Leader of the Divine’s army, and soon, Leader of the Inquisition’s forces.” Marina looked sharply at the Seeker. The Inquisition? This was news.

 

“Such as they are,” the previously gentle expression dissolves into one of regret. The Fereldan accent against the baritone voice gave a sense of the man being easy to approach. Marina wondered how firm he could be with the troops. “Fannon’s warnings of the rocks from the Breach helped, but we still lost a number of people in the Valley. I am glad you were able to make it through.” The gentle expression returned, confirming to Marina that this was a peaceful man by nature. A person who defended the defenseless rather than attack first. Her own smile crested her face as she nodded to him.

 

“This is the Inquisition’s Ambassador, Lady Josephine Montilyet.” Marina watched the woman brighten on being introduced. Friendly, polite, close to her own age?

 

“I have heard much,” Ah, an Antvian indeed. “It is a pleasure to meet you at last.” She seems to wish to say more but holds herself back.

 

“And of course, you remember Leliana.”

 

“The Left Hand of the Divine. I am under the impression you are the… information under the table sort.” Leliana’s eyes flashed up into Marina’s blues. She could see the Orelian woman reading her. Could Trevelyan be trusted? Marina knew the Spymaster would see that she was not so easily intimidated. That impressed the Spy, enough for a smile to pass over her lips.

 

“I am,” was Leliana’s only verbal answer.

 

“It is a pleasure to meet you all, and I am glad to see you as well, Varric.” The dwarf nodded before taking a few steps back. “Where is Solas?”

 

“Chuckles said something about a potion. Probably went to Adan before coming in.” Varric offered while trying to get the Commander’s attention by pointing at the Free Marches piece. The two had a connection?

 

“And what is this about the Inquisition?” Marina asked looking to Leliana. Her position suggested she was leader of the meeting anyway.

 

“Before the Conclave, Divine Justina had a writ,” Cassandra moved away as she spoke, returning to the table with a large tome. “It was to be under her guidance that the Inquisition would be restored. But she is gone, and an even more dangerous threat hangs over our heads. We are trying to persuade the Grand Chancellor to see reason, but even without him _or_ the Chantry, we must act.” Marina’s back stiffened as the tome was placed in the center of the table. The history of the Inquisition was the eventual start of the Seekers and then of the Templar order. She rolled her shoulders back, taking an at rest stance, and raised her chin to meet the Seeker’s gaze.

 

“It looks like you understand what we are asking of you,” the Commander’s calm voice called her attention. His hands, resting on his sword, were stiff. A Templar?

 

“We are to begin a war?” Marina asked, looking deliberately at the Hands, keeping herself perfectly erected.

 

“Yes. We now understand that the one who killed the Divine is not alone. He is trying to gain forces for another attack and worse. We must do the same.” Leliana’s hand sweeps the board. “It is not a matter of only the Breach. The ones behind it, what their true goal was, we must know.”

 

“Please, Trevelyan,” Cassandra asks as she raises her hand. “Help us.”

 

Marina didn’t even think as she raised her own hand, slapping it into the Seeker’s own and shaking hard. “Of course.”

 

A knock on the door had Solas entering, nodding a hello to everyone. “Forgive me for being late. I had to attend to something for Fannon’s sake.”

 

“Speaking of the Sooth-Sayer, we should send someone to fetch her. She may be able to give us even more insight.” Cullen commented, and Marina noticed a curve to his lips. The Commander found Fannon amusing at the least.

 

Solas elected himself to fetch the woman, leaving the table to confer, starting with Trevelyan’s family.

  
  
  


Solas was not even hiding how amused he founds my current position as I look up at him. I am next to my fire while arm-deep in a bucket of freezing water. I have been scrubbing my underwear and bra for at least a minute before I had noticed Solas entering because of my earphones.

 

I.AM.SCREAMING.RED!

 

I throw my upper body over my bucket and yell at him to get out. I hear that damn half-chuckle he does as he steps out. I sniffle a little as I wring out my lady garments and hang them on a small rope I now have in the doorway of my little nook. I slip on my gloves to warm up my freezing fingers and set all my electronics on my cot. My two battery changers are now full, thanks to all the light my solar charger got from the shiny snow.

 

Stepping outside, Solas is back to his calm self, until he looks at me. I _swear_ I just saw an eye smirk. “DAMNIT, CAN’T A LADY WASH HER CLOTHES WITHOUT BEING JUDGED?” I don’t really shout at him, but I definitely raise my voice a little. Kinda comes from the still brilliant red feeling I have in my face.

 

He gives a partial smirk before heading up the path to the town. I puff up like an angry bird.

 

“Ah, a moment.” Solas stops about 50 feet away from the cabin and removes his staff from the back vest. He traces a pattern into the truck of a tree and a bloom of yellow sparkles appears before fading. Ugh, and now my scalp itches. “I will set one on the other side when I escort you back this evening.”

 

“Oh, is that the people warding spell you mentioned?” I move over to look. It’s deeply etched into the wood of the tree. I pat the tree, feeling a silly sympathy for it being scarred.

 

“Yes. It will be essential, especially with you gaining attention now. Once I have completed the spell, no one will be able to pass this point without your consent. If they try, they will be shocked. If they persist, a ruin that I keep on hand, and plan to give copies to the others, will break. You should be safe.”

 

I look down at the path and the snow, seeing a very faded yellow line going across it… and get an evil idea. I smirk up at the mage and say, “If I push you over the line, will you get zapped?”

 

Half-chuckle again, but a more readable smile. Ohhhh, someone is feeling just as smartass-y as me it seems. “No, I am the caster of the spell. No harm will come to me.” He turns and sets off again. “And what was that about you claiming to be a lady?”

 

I gasp loudly and whine. “ _Hahrennnnn_ , that wasn’t nice.” I do my best to rush after him.

  


_Havana, ooh na-na_

 

Marina’s head snapped up, losing her concentration on the plan to allow this Scout Harding a few extra days before she and others headed to the Hinterlands.

 

_Half of my heart is in Havana, ooh-na-na_

 

It was a nice voice. Comforting, well-practiced. She could hear it dip and blend. Even emotions of playfulness were coming through.

 

_He took me back to East Atlanta, na-na-na_

 

Commander, with snickering amusement, opened the door. Marina looked out to see Solas returning with a… ‘dancing’ Fannon. Not that she would truly call such unbalanced shuffling movements dancing, but the intent was clear.

 

_Oh, but my heart is in Havana_

 

Solas looked like a patient uncle, escorting a misbehaving niece to her lessons.

 

_There's somethin' 'bout his manners_

 

 _Havana, ooh_ OH CRAP!

 

Based on the flails of embarrassment, the blushing, and the covering of her mouth with her hands, Marina was quite sure that was not how the song was meant to end.

 

Now was the first truly good look she had of the woman. Her face was very oval, a dramatic slope of her nose ended with a slightly wider tip. Freckles dotted her entire face, but were not overly thick. Her cheekbones are high and full, completely red at the moment. She was very fair, which made her dark eyes, hair and eyebrows pop out even more. A broad forehead with a single scar in the center was present because she had no bangs and her hair was tucked in a band. Darkened skin on her upper eyelids and a pale pink to her lips made it seem like she was wearing makeup.

 

The blush of her cheeks also split onto her ears and down her long neck. She was tall, taller than even Cassandra and while overweight, she carried it well. Her shoulders were the same width as her hips while the dress’ gentle cinching showed a fair dip in her waist.  The weight was placed throughout her trunk and her bust line was almost that of a mother’s. Marina’s eyes draw back up to her brown ones, and she could see it. It was as everyone had already said. She was an innocent.

 

“Well, I just embarrassed the crap out of myself.” She grinned through her nervousness, but walked directly to Trevelyan, offering her hand. Marina took it, noticing the lack of any hard spots or edges. She was certainly not a fighter. “A proper hello to you, Lady Marina Trevelyan. I am Dana Fannon. So far, I like Ser Fannon and Ms. Fannon, your worship.” She smiled, whole and honest, as she shook their hands together hard before releasing. After that, her hands rested on her hips, which she cocked to the side. “Have they told you about me?”

 

“Told her you were stubborn about people being nice to you, Songbird.” Varric offered in a fake snide voice. Fannon puffed up like an offended youngster, blushing anew as she glares around Marina’s shoulder.

 

“Only when that help is offered before I’ve done _anything_. I have to pay back people, Varric.”

 

“Fannon, I think it would be best if you stepped inside.” Solas offers. Fannon blinks and looks around before rushing into the room like she had not thought of the people around them at all.

 

The woman moves over to the side of Varric and Josie, taking a seat on the chair that had been in the room. She picked and groomed her dress. A nervous habit?

 

“Lady Trevelyan, The Sooth-Sayer of the Inquisition, Ser Fannon.” Josephine announced, and Marina noticed the woman smile slightly, but the dip her head stopped their eyes from meeting. Shy?

 

“Yes, Yes. Now, let’s get to business, if you guys haven’t already. What’s the official plan?” Fannon looked eagerly from the advisors, tapping her feet.

 

“The official plan is this: Scout Harding has already left.” Leliana moves her piece back to the Hinterlands. Fannon looks very confused.

 

“At night? That’s… possible?” Her left hand comes up and she nips at the pad of her thumb.

 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Marina notices that Leliana is being more expressive while speaking with the Seer.

 

“Well, my country has these things called ‘flashlights’. They are like torches, but only the light, not the fire or heat. That allows _us_ to move around safely in the dark, but doesn’t Thedas only have torches and lanterns? Isn’t it risky? Bandits and everything that’s out at night?”

 

“Ah, you have not been out at night. I am sorry, I forgot. At this time of the year, the moons are out together for several hours during the night.” Leliana starts to explain. Marina wonders how the woman could not have known this.

 

“Ah, and the snow on the ground helps reflect the light, making it even easier to see. Gotcha, gotcha. Ok, shushing now.” She looked at the map, hands in her lap, like a child waiting for her Wintersend present. If not for the fine lines at the corners of her eyes and the silver strands at her temples, Marina would have put the woman in her early 20s. Mid to late 20s now.

 

“We will wait up to a week for news from Scout Harding before making any decisions. If I may ask, why did you want her to go to the Hinterlands, Fannon? I had planned it before, but what did you see?” Leliana addressed the brunette directly and Marina notices Lady Montilyet preparing a new paper.

 

“Well, now that my timeline is off,” she looked over, smiling cheekily at Trevelyan before turning back to the others, “It all had to do with the Chancellor’s actions. If he is unwilling to see reason, and let’s face it, men who suffer from small-dick syndrome never do-”

 

A hard snort from the Commander, gasps of shock from Cassandra, herself and Lady Montilyet, soft snickers from Leliana and perhaps even Solas, and Varric’s loud bark of a laugh cut her off. She was smirking though, leaning back into her chair as she laughed too. Her laugh morphed from a guffaw to that of a wheezing teapot, sending Varric and Cullen into even louder laughs, while Lady Josephine hid behind her clipboard to join them in. Solas shook his head like he was surrounded by troublesome children.

 

After a bit longer, in which Fannon had to pinch herself, giving her enough pain to calm down, they looked to her again for an explanation. “Oh, twice in one day. Ok, so the Chancellor, as we have all seen, is a stubborn mule. He’s now at the head of the Chantry and has a lot of people listening to him for the first time. His ego is exceedingly inflated right now. He’s set in his ways and he’s refusing to listen to anyone actually in the front lines.” She looked to Cassandra and Leliana, who both nodded. “So, he’s going to take his bitching and moaning to the capital and have a bunch of mothers and sisters listen and agree with him. In the timeline I knew, we would get word of this a bit after Trevelyan woke up and after the Inquisition was officially named. Once we were proclaimed heretics by Roderick’s meddling, we would need to get individual Chantry members on our side. There is one in the Hinterlands. A Mother Giselle. She’s nice overall; someone who actually cares about people, not politics. Though, she _is_ Orlesian, she knows how politics work. Getting her on our side, and getting the support of the common people, gets us enough attention for the higher ups to potentially listen to us.”

 

“Potentially?” Cassandra asks, and Fannon tenses, watching her. She relaxes after a moment. Those two must have been fighting earlier.

 

“Well, now that Trevelyan is awake, we should offer her a lot of the decision making. People are going to follow the woman who is out in the world, killing the bad guys and sealing rifts. What people hear about her is the deciding factor.” Fannon looks up to her again, smiling softly. “You’ll do great. I’ll do all I can to make it easier for you, but you’ve already done a lot. Pretty soon, no one is going to doubt you.”

 

Marina felt a small flush run to her cheeks. That was forward of the woman, nearly uncomfortably so.

 

“Also, you’ve seen how Cassie, Solas and Varric fight, right? If you ask nicely, they might come with you~.” She beams over to the elf, who raises his eyebrows at her, and bumps the shoulder of the dwarf. Strange, was she only shy toward Trevelyan?

 

“So, heading to the Hinterlands is a precaution against Roderick’s demand to name us heretics?” Cassandra sneered slightly, casting her eyes briefly to the door like she wished to find the worm.

 

“Yes and no. We need support, Chantry _and_ otherwise. If we help the people of the Hinterlands, it carries word of mouth. Others will realize that we are not some big bad organization out to throw the Chantry in the fire. We are out to help all of Thedas.” Fannon is still tapping her feet, like it is uncomfortable for her to be still.

 

“Speaking of the Hinterlands,” Josie nods to the Commander who pulls another map out from under the current one. Fannon ‘ohs’, clapping her hands once before leaning over the table. An immediate look of confusion takes over her expressive face and she moves the map and her head this way and that.

 

“Ugh, the real maps look so much different than the ones in my visions. Can someone point to the King’s Road and the route to Redcliffe?” The Commander was the one to show the different routes, making her move around to stand between Cassandra and Trevelyan.

 

“Ok, _think_ I’ve got my orientation. Now take everything I’ve got with the knowledge that this doesn’t look like the map I’m used to and that the timeline I knew has already changed.” She smiled up at Josephine, who nodded, and glanced at everyone else. Varric had his own journal out with the strangest quill Marina had ever seen.

 

“Ok, most important is the Crossroadsss~, here?” She pointed to a section before the King’s Road split toward Redcliffe. “I’ve always seen rogue mages and Templars fighting here as soon as you arrive. They are ruthless, attacking everyone who is trying to settle the area.” She paused, fingers shaking at the point on the map. A deep breath, “Sorry, I keep having moments where I realize that my visions are _visions_ and not made up dreams. People… really are hurting out there…”

 

“We will help them, Fannon.” Cassandra offers, patting the sensitive woman once on the shoulder. She needs another breath before focusing. “It should be fairly close to where Harding makes up the Inquisition’s first camp. Again, from what I’ve seen.” She trailed her fingers back to a small hillside. She then traveled up the other side to a steeper hill where an old fort still stood. “Here is a rift, also a crap ton more elfroot. Send someone back with the seeds please; I’ll add them to my farm.” Varric chuckled. Farm?

 

“There is some old Gray Warden stuff in the area, but hold off, becauseeee,” her fingers travel up the hills to a smaller lake. “Here. He should be here.”

 

“This Blackwall you mentioned?” Trevelyan asked, having gotten a run through of Fannon’s knowledge while waiting for her. The woman grins while nodding.

 

“I have always seen him helping train up some locals to fight against the bandits that come in behind the Templars and rogue mages. Not sure if he would be now or not, but there should be no harm in speaking with him after you help the Crossroads and a few others. Stop by and say hi… errr, like a day or two before coming back to Haven for supplies and what not… wait, is that needed?”

 

“Not exactly, but I think we understand. Build up our Reputation before attempting to secure an alliance with the Gray Warden.” Cassandra partially translated. Fannon nodded and continued tracing over the map.

 

There is _complete_ disorder in the way she explains things, but she is at least detailed in the different pieces. They know where the main groups of Templars and Mages are, several areas of people that will need help, all the rifts that she knows of, special demons -demons and spirits she says, but Marina isn’t sure of the distinction-, and a pack of wolves that will need to be taken care of before the horse master is willing to work with them.

 

“Please try killing just the demon first. I adore wolves. They are one of the few animals that has family groups. Hell, sometimes they even accept outside wolves to join. And they so big and fluffy!” Her pitch shots up at the end while she claps her hands together. If they hadn’t just spent the last hour or so going over such detailed plans, Marina would continue thinking of her as a child.

 

Solas’ head snapped up and a disappointment ‘hm’ fell from his lips. Everyone noticed, but it was Fannon who gave a sarcastic sigh before asking, “It’s the Chancellor, isn’t it?” The elf’s storm eyes fell on her, amusement confirming her suspicions.  “Oh, this outta be good. Do I need to censor myself this time, Leliana?”

 

The spymaster gives her an endeared smile, highly exaggerated to help the woman understand. “If he will not listen to reason.” Fannon smirks, winks, and goes back to the chair next to Varric.

 

Marina turned toward the door, hands resting on her back, legs slightly spread apart. Even she could now hear the sounds of armor of others outside the door.

 

Said door opened with a bang and first through was the Chancellor. He immediately drew up short, seeing all the people already in the room. Marina could see five Templars behind him, likely here at this request to capture a dangerous criminal or some other nonsense he told them. Cassandra took the same position as Trevelyan, ready to face the baseless allegations the Chancellor was looking to throw.

 

The worm recovered, “Chain this woman,” he pointed to Marina, “I want her on the first ship to the Capital.”

 

“Disregard that.” There was a moment of tension after Cassandra command. Who were the soldiers going to obey? Marina smiled in her mind as each of the soldiers quickly thumped their chest to her. “Leave us.” They all turned on their heels and left.

 

“Kneeeww itttt~” Fannon’s singsong whisper made Marina bite her inner lip.

 

“How dare-”

 

“Now is not the time, Chancellor. The Breach may be stable, but it is still a threat. We cannot ignore this.” Cassandra straightens her spine even more. It is quite a show for the devout woman to go against a high-ranking Chantry member.

 

“That does not excuse your actions, then or now. That woman is-”

 

“Innocent. I heard the voices that bled through the Fade at the Temple. We heard them,” Cassandra gestures to herself, Leliana, Varric and Solas, “along with numerous others.”

 

“So that thing on her hand, its connection to the Breach in the sky, a coincidence?” The Chancellor is running out of steam. Marina glazed over to Fannon, watching her watch Cassandra, mouthing ‘Providence’.

 

“Providence; The Maker sent them to us in our darkest hour.” The mention of ‘them’ confused Fannon, her head tilting dramatically to the side.

 

“You are including the supposed Seer in this?” Roderick now turned to Fannon, who visibly shrunk under the focus. A very slight bump of Varric’s forearm to her shoulder had her back straightened but still looking down.

 

“I am; I will stand behind Fannon’s abilities and Trevelyan’s faith and skill.” Cassandra proclaimed. “We are ready and willing to do what it takes to close the Breach.”

 

“That is not for you to decide.” The man actually tried to step forward, tried to intimidate Pentaghast.

 

“So that power lies with you?” Eyes turned to Fannon as she stood. She did her best to stare down the Chancellor, though her one hand clutched at her dress and the other shook badly. “You, the person who is willing to call a retreat against the most dangerous thing Thedas has ever faced? The Breach is a rip in the Veil. Don’t you understand? If we don’t try to fix it, demons could flood all of Thedas, killing millions. We have already proven that we can at least shut it for a time. What would _you_ have us do? Wait for the election of the Divine? That would take ages, at least months, and unless she’s a mage, what can she do that we can’t?” She rounded the table and stood before the smaller man. The skirts of her dress was also visibly shaking, but she did not stop. “Do you have any, _any_ idea the destruction that would take place if we waited? It’s… it’s,” she stopped, turning to Cassandra with wet eyes. “It’s horrible. So many dead, possessed, red lyrium everywhere.” She grits her teeth and displays them at Roderick. “We can not let that happen! So _you_ have a choice, Chancellor.” She stepped back, directly to Marina’s left side, allowing the Chancellor to see the rest of the table. “You can get on board with those of us that are doing all in _our_ power to help the world from falling apart. Or you can dig in your heels in trying to prove to those that didn’t witness Trevelyan that you are right.”

 

The man glared at the blunt woman, before turning his eyes to Cassandra. Trevelyan controlled a sigh that wished to be set free. Fannon had been right about him.

 

“You do not have the authority to do this!”

 

Cassandra turned back to the table and pointed at the tome. “Do you know what this is, Chancellor? A writ from the Divine, granting us the authority to act. As of this moment, we declare the Inquisition reborn.” She stepped forward, and Marina once again mentally smiled to see the man shrink under her righteousness. “We will close the Breach, we will find those responsible, and we _will_ restore order, with or without your approval.”

 

A sense of pride filled the air around them, and from Marina’s limited view, everyone stood square, shoulders back. Those in this room, in this moment, were unified.

 

And the Chancellor snarled before scurrying away like a rat.

 

“Oh, Jesus, _Jesús_ of mercy,” Fannon half collapsed on the table. Varric grinned and patted the woman on the back.

 

“Second day in a row you’ve actually stood up for yourself, Songbird. Is that a record?”

 

Fannon tries to laugh it off, but the action certainly seemed taxing for the woman as she sits. “Very possible, my dear scoundrel.” She tries to smile, but instead leans her head onto the table. Tremors flow over her limbs and back.

 

“It’s disheartening that someone so high in the Chantry refuses to admit another is right.” Marina turns back to the table, looking the maps.

 

“My family has a phrase,” Fannon turned her cheek to the table surface, looking at everyone. “Faith and religion are not the same. Religions are taught and preached by imperfect beings. Listen to your heart and believe what it tells you.”

 

“I can see some wisdom in that.” Leliana nods softly, before reaching under the maps and drawing forth a banner. “Commander, if you would be so kind as to post this on the Chantry door after we conclude. This is our official decree.”

 

Those at the table looked around to the others, and Trevelyan could see the unification cement between them. A smile finally presented itself on her face.

 

“If I could please be excused,” Fannon lifted herself up, hands lifting to her hair to pull it free before re-tying. “I still have laundry to finish tonight and get it on the line to be dry for tomorrow.”

 

“Yes, I think we have covered everything we need to tonight. We will be waiting for word from Scout Harding and my Orlais sources. We will call new meetings when we have new information.”

 

“Well, after that piss-poor showing on that Chancellor’s part, I could use a drink. Curly? Nightingale? Fishie?”

 

“Yeah, I mean, it’s not a very good dick measuring contest when the world is at stake.” And once again, the sheer _vulgarity_ of Fannon caught most of them off guard. Varric slapped the table as he laughed, while Josephine, Leliana and Cullen did their bests to hold it in. Cassandra and herself just let themselves be floored, and Solas smirked, but was silent. She smiled though, wrinkling her nose as though she was pleased with herself. “ _Hahren_ , would you please escort me back? I would appreciate it.”

 

“It seems you enjoy causing trouble, _da’len_.” Solas nodded before moving to escort them away.

 

“Only against idiots, and I’m not usually very good at it. Good night, everyone!” She waves enthusiastically to them all as she left.

 

Overall, Marina’s option for the woman at the moment was someone who was nonthreatening, but with high, childlike energy and a non-confrontational personality. She still had strong spine for things she felt were right, though it weakened her to show it. Perhaps a bit ‘much’ for Trevelyan, but very useful.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisition moves forward. Please buckle seat beats and store luggage away. Multiple points of view and time skips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next two chapters have nearly everyone's view about the other members of the Inquisition and our other worlder. Things are movinggggg.

“Andraste’s blessed ass,” Varric blasphemed again as he sat down hard on an outcropping of rocks. “Remind me that if Songbird ever says something is long and arduous, that she’s actually being nice about it.” Varric groans in pain slightly as he digs off his boot, tipping it over and knocking the grit and small rocks out of it. “How many days have we been out here now?” He pulled on the one boot before pulling off its twin, turning it over too.

 

“It has been nine days since our arrival, Varric.” Chuckles answered him, the elf also deciding to take a seat to rest. The mage was still a touch pale from their last run in with the damn Templars, but if Songbird was right, the Inquisition had taken care of their main camp this morning. The supplies the bastards had been carrying were already on the way to the Crossroads, and Seeker had lit the pyre for the bodies. The dwarf fixed his second boot before looking over to Fishie.

 

The Herald looked exhausted as she leaned back against a tree. Her red hair was a mess of twigs and dirt, and sadly, uneven now. Damn Templar bastards had lopped off one of her side buns. The mage offered to regrow the hair a bit later, once they were all rested. A couple of the soldiers in their company were gently slathering her in elfroot paste and wrapping bandages. Another was mending the side stitches of her chest piece while a last one was sharpening her sword. Despite all the bruises, cuts and general bumps, the stubborn warrior said they would be moving out once the pyre had consumed all the bodies. Varric swore the noble woman never rested.

 

“Maker, do I miss the cities. No damn bears trying to chase you, no damn falling rocks trying to bean up to death-”

 

“Fresh baths for the right price whenever you want,” Fishie bemoans softly in her mild low grumble. One of her pale blue eyes is peeking open now, just the smallest bit of rare mirth shining through. Angry little veins lined the whites of her eyes while purple circles, almost bruises, made it look like she hadn’t slept in weeks. Course, she turned in every night like the rest of them, and they’d only been away from Haven for about three days plus the nine here in the Hinterlands.

 

“Ah, Fishie. There’s that stream nearby. Between us and the soldiers, we’ll make sure no one peeks if you want to rinse off.” Varric offered. Even if the water would be freezing, feeling clean was one of the fastest ways to feeling like oneself again.

 

She leaned her head this way then that, moans softly as it popped before peeking her eye open again. “That _does_ sound lovely, but no. How much more ground do we have to cover before we reach the one camp spot Fannon suggested? The one with the very small pond?”

 

“The scouts said it would be at least half a day’s walk from the Crossroad to the farm, if the path was clear. I would say we are at least halfway.” Cassandra offered in between helping other soldiers stack more and more wood onto the pyre.

 

“Who has the map that Fannon marked for us?” Trevelyan tried to sit up more, hissing softly as she leaned forward to engage with the others.

 

“I have it,” Solas confirms softly before pulling his pack from behind. He slips his fingers into the center of his tent and pulls out a now stained and partly burnt map. He lays it out over his knees, before pointing to a red circle. Aside from the gently tremble in his fingers, Solas looked to be nearly back in order. “Ah, it would seem Fannon was on the mark again. She put the camp a bit closer to the broken bridge, but all things match. A waterfall at the back of the camp-”

 

“A small buried cache of Ironwood under the waterfall-” Cassandra nodded and continued.

 

“A broken bridge that can be used as a trail marker for the Inquisition-” Marina added.

 

“And a whole ‘crap ton’ more iron and some onyx up and around the waterfall and stream.” Varric capped it off with air quotes over Fannon’s strange phrases.

 

“What is her record now?” Marina had an indifferent face on as she stretched out her left arm. The glowing mark had made her left side a beacon to all bandits, rogue factions, and even the lone bear they had run into. Fannon was far too highly energized for the Herald, but she would always thank the other woman for her intel.

 

“Besides the no warning of the mountain cats while chasing the rams and the Marabi toward the Winterwatch tower, her predictions have been nearly spot on.” Cassandra tossed her temporary leather gloves into the fire before slipping on her gauntlets, moving to sit on the rock outlet on the other side of Solas.

 

“Are not most wild Marabi seen in the thicker tree line? The more open plains seem a strange place for such large dogs to seek prey.” Solas questioned as a counterpoint. He offers the map to Cassandra, who starts measuring the distance to Fannon’s next circle.

 

“Hate to say it, Chuckles, but they were sure interested in chasing you. Got some extra snacks in your pack?” Varric joked as he broke out a quick travel snack from his pocket.

 

Solas gave a mildly downcast, for him, half-smile. “Sadly, no. I am afraid Marabi have never had a liking for me.” The elf takes out his waterskin and sipped.

 

“In terms of the mountain cats, they weren’t really surprising after the first one. Not to mention they helped with feeding the Crossroads.” Marina finally got herself up, feeling the aches easing as she stepped over to look at the map from the other way. There were two smaller circles not far from the broken bridge itself, and they could either follow the stream down to a rift that would need to be cleared or follow the main route and ‘likely hit the howlers.’

 

“If we leave shortly, would we be able to reach the spot?” Trevelyan watched as Cassandra continued tracing over the map.

 

“You are not too injured to press hard?” Cassandra asked with a concern filled voice. The hard work of helping the numerous people, many of them now shockingly devoted to the Inquisition, had rounded the edges of the woman.

 

“I will be fine. Solas?” Trevelyan looked over to the elf. Both the mage and dwarf stood up together, Varric throwing in a dramatic groan.

 

“I am fine, Herald.” Solas offered, his voice firm, but Marina still gave him a long look over before nodding and turning away. A breeze shifted the leaves above and cast a shadow across the mage's face as he returned the map. For a moment, Varric thought he caught the wrinkle of disgust across Solas' features. Varric straightened to scrutinize him further, but the fleeting expression was gone. It must have been a trick of the light. A loud whistle from Marina got the attention of the soldiers. They would wait and follow after the small group after an hour.

 

******* 

 

 

 

My chest is screaming as I run, actually _run_ , up the stairs and go to the left to get to the Chantry. My arms pump back and forth, but at least I’m able to dodge and weave around the too damn many sisters and mothers that line this way. The bell overhead rings loud and clear as I race inside, basically throwing myself at Josie’s door.

 

The Antivan looks up from her work with a half-smile. I flopped down hard into the little chair she has set aside for me on the left corner of the desk. “It seems you must have been practically hoity with the Commander today. How many extra laps did he make you do?” She’s still grinning as I flop my cheek onto the small corner I’m given for lessons. I try smiling at her between my heaving breaths.

 

“Two extras. All I said was that if his fluffy mane got any bigger, we wouldn’t be able to find him in it.” Josie gave an adorable gigglesnort, before clearing her throat. “Sorry for cutting it so close, Ambassador. I’ll get to work now.”

 

She nods before pointing the feather of her quill at my practice packet of parchment. I pull out my pen from my new belt purse. It’s a lot like that golden belt Bethany wore while in the Circle. It’s almost completely replaced my purse over the nearly three weeks since the Herald woke up. I’m still working on my phonic steps, but I’m starting to string together words. The names of the advisors, the inner circle, the big countries; good progress to keep my mind active.

 

“Oh! I see you have been able to tighten your belt a notch!” Josie’s sure looks happy for me, and damn if I’m not happy for myself. I sit up straight, showing off the barmaid’s dress as I like to call it. I have indeed been able to tighten my belt one notch since arriving in Thedas. Between the drastic change in diet (Solas made good on his veggie recipes before leaving), and the need to do _something_ with all of my free time (which led to Cullen putting me through my paces) I’m losing weight! Rather proud of myself since back home, you couldn’t get me to do much of anything.

 

“Yup. Hope I can keep it up.” I wink before going back over my studies.

 

Besides the exercise with Cullen, writing and reading lessons with Josie, The Game lessons with Leliana, I’ve been putting bits and pieces of my ‘modern day’ knowledge to good use around Haven. It had taken a series of meetings between the advisors, Herald and inner crew before I could explain the idea of ‘germs’ well enough. Explaining science, and the importance of it in my culture, was longggg. I got sidetracked a number of times explaining what little I knew behind the machines that went into our studies. No, I didn’t know how to build a microscope. No, I don’t know _how_ to blood type, just what they were (I needed to comb through my emergency survival books in my Kindle, just in case). No, I have no idea what diseases we shared since it was obvious that we don’t give them the same names. Yes, my culture has STDs too, but we don’t have healer mages to help. (I had looked at Varric on that one, and he’d snickered to himself).

 

I introduced the idea of ‘experiments’, including control groups and variables. Solas got really interested at this point and between the two of us, with permission, we set up an experiment. To test if regular hand washing helped with stopping the spread of sickness, we enlisted the help of three groups of 10. The different members of the groups were part soldiers, part working with the healers, and at least one person who was on latrine duty. The control would do nothing different in their daily routines. They would work, sleep, and make notes with passing runners on their health. The second group would have a powder mix that needed to be made and drunk as tea every morning. The last group had to wash their hands after certain actions. Bathroom trips, meeting and touching anyone, before and after eating. This went into effect two days after the Herald woke up, and it is to run for another 13 days for a month. So far, 3 of the control group have been sick with at least the sniffles, 2 of the tea drinkers, and 1 of the handwashing.

 

My talk about science has led to daily/nightly meetings of ‘Strange shit Songbird’s county does’ as Varric named it. The advisors are gracious enough to let me explain something from my country and I always try to make it useful for the Inquisition. The meeting minutes are sent by raven to the Herald after the first week, and Solas regularly visits me at night to confirm whatever I talked about that day. Still haven’t gotten into the ‘digital’ era with them.

 

Oh dear god, why was the Thedas letter for the ‘ph’ sound so damn similar to its ‘dr’ sound?!

 

A knock and Josie calls to whoever. I ignore the noble, from the snobbish voice, and start a new line of the sounds. Muscle memory will lead to conscious memory.

 

“Forgive me, my lord, but I need to speak with the Lady Ambassador. You will be shown to your quarters by this young man.” I blink up and turn to Leliana’s voice. Aaron is standing next to her, though he gives a little side wave at seeing me. I mouth ‘Math!’ at him, which leads to him blushing and nodding before escorting the noble away. Leliana stays in the doorway, watching them leave, for a moment before coming in. “Fannon, still hard at work I see.”

 

I grin at the redhead, winking as I offer up her a better view of my work. “Trying, Nightingale. Hope everything is going well for you.”

 

She gives me a small lip curl before handing me, of all people, a small note. It’s small enough that I know it’s from a raven, and unfolding it, I can see Varric’s name at the bottom. “Give it a try, Sooth-Sayer.”

 

Oh! This is the first time any of the advisors had let me try reading the incoming messages. Least it was short.

 

“ ‘He-hey, Sing, no, _Song_ bird’ Course he uses my nickname. ‘We… are passing, no, past the… brick?’” I turn the note to Josie.

 

“Bridge.”

 

I feel my face puzzle as I set the paper down and look through my notes. Ahhhh, I see where I went wrong. On my work-paper for today, I add a line to work on the difference. Picking my note back up, I keep going. “ ‘Tak-Took care of Te-Tem, Oh Templars!, and hea-heading for… horse...’ Well, I can’t _read_ that last one, but I’m guessing ‘master’.”

 

“You’ve done well in just the short time you’ve been studying,” Leliana takes back my note. I mentally pout; hey, dangit, it’s addressed to me.

 

“We’re just lucky our spoken language and grammar are the same. I’d bet Crowns I’d need years for your Orlesian.” I watch as Leliana moves around to Josie’s side, handing her a number of other notes.

 

“What is it called in your country?” Josephine still gives me attention, glancing over in-between looking at the papers.

 

“French. It has fallen out of favor as a language to study. It’s seen as more productive to study Antivan, or Spanish to us.” I take up my pen again and keep working, just till Josie gives this tiny gasp/happy noise and I see her smiling dreamily at one of the notes. “What? Did a new noble propose to you~~?” I grin as she tries to smack me with the letter. Leliana is smiling too; just last week, Josie had two proposes from visiting Ferelden nobles.

 

“Oh, do behave, Ser Fannon,” to which I stick my tongue out. “No, but the Ferelden nobles have agreed to sponsor us. We need to have Lady Pentaghast meet and thank them at the Crossroads in a week’s time though.”

 

“Cassie’s going to love that,” I dip into my ‘mildly sarcastic’ voice, as Leliana has been calling. Not sure how mild it is, but whatevs.

 

“Ferelden nobles would be much more… palatable for Lady Pentaghast, as someone who does not enjoy the Great Game.” Josie gently argues back.

 

“Only Orlesians like the Great Game, Josie. Everyone else actually DOES something with their lives. I just don’t get how you two do it.” I looked between the two rogues and shake my head softly. “But at least we have two of the best players on our sides.”

 

“Thank you for the compliment, Fannon. We have your gracious nature to work with, and your gestures are becoming more fluid.” Leliana offers and I nod my head forward while also dipping my chin towards my chest. As a non-noble, and someone from outside of Orlais, I needed to make deeper gestures, as I would be considered very low on the ladder. “Do not forget your eyes as you bow.” I repeat the gesture, this time closing my eyes slowly and opening them up just as slowly as I look at her again. “Better.”

 

“Oh!” Both of us look back to Josie, who looks… excit-worried? Best way I can describe it. She’s looking at a rather thick letter, something you could fit a lot of individual papers in. “What very interesting timing, for these to arrive together,” Josie held the thick letter in one hand, a smaller message in the other. I’m pretty sure it’s not just ‘interesting’, whatever they are, and I lean my face on my hand, giving Leliana my best, ‘What did you do?’

 

“What are they, Josie?”

 

“This,” she holds up the thick letter in her right hand, “Seems to be a number of letters about the Charger’s references, while this,” she holds a single page in her left hand, “Is the report of their whereabouts. It certainly seems strange that these would arrive together, since I sent out a request for the Chargers’ location nearly three weeks ago.” Josie and I both stare at Leliana, who just gives a small shrug. I try to angle my head to look at the letter, but oh dear lord was that fancy print. I then give puppy eyes at Josie to read it aloud. Josie gives a little giggle; my puppy eyes have been strangely effective in Thedas.

 

“It would seem the Chargers were near Lydes, completing a job that involved Tevinters.” They both look at me squarely. I wink, lick my finger and tact another line for myself on my ‘air chalkboard’. Leliana nods in agreement, before Josie continues. “They are to return to Val Chevin to receive payment before heading out again.”

 

I twist my pen into little circle doodles as I think of our possibilities. I have a plan, a rather dangerous one. Physically and politically because I am going to be encouraging Cassie to attack the Lord Seeker in Val Royeaux at the meeting in a month. If we blow Envy’s cover… but still, there are a lot of things that can go wrong. “Can we send a letter directly to them? The Herald will be leaving for Val Royeaux in what? Three weeks? With the meeting with the Chantry in a month? Val Chevin’s not too far from there, right?” My eyes roll up as I tried to remember the maps from off the top of my head.

 

“Are you going to tell us why you wish to meet the Chargers so badly?” Rut ruo. That was Leliana’s not playing anymore Spymaster voice. I know better than to lie, or my attempts at lies, in this case. Course, if it’s something I _really_ shouldn’t say, like who’s behind the explosion of the Conclave, I just say nothing at all.

 

“I mentioned that they will come to us eventually, right?” I look over before groaning. Nope, not flying. “Finnnne. Look, I have always seen the meeting not going particularly well. I’ve never seen _us_ in danger, but I have seen a force in the Capital that does _not_ help our case. And with all the other little differences happening, I want to be careful.”

 

“What do you expect to happen if the Chargers are present?” Leliana edging and I shrink into my chair, leaning my chin on the desk to give the best ‘don’t hurt me!’ I can. Josie sets the letters down and leans forward; she has been very helpful/protective with me in the time I’ve been here.

 

“Hell-Void if I know. I told you, it’s just a precaution against the force I saw. I never saw anything come to blows before.”

 

“Who is this force? If we know who they are, we can take precautionary steps beforehand.” Leliana tries to ‘gently’ con me into it. Personally, I have little doubt she’s already received reports of Templars moving, but I’m not going to say a word on the matter.

 

At all, as I dramatically push my lips together and stare down at the desk.

 

“Ser Fannon?” asks Josie.

 

“Nothing at all?” Leliana’s tone is scary, but after a few moments, she sighs. “Very well.” I look up; Leliana is the hardest to take my ‘I can’t talk about it’, but she’s accepting it. Kinda.

 

“Well, I will send word to Val Chevin then. Simply asking to meet them in the capital would not be too strange or even out of their way.” Josie masterfully breaks the tension.

 

“Oh, can I write a little note?” Both women are stunned and Leliana has gone ‘I can’t read that’ face on me. Boo. “Just a little one. The leader is a curious guy, and while it would be a _bad_ idea to say anything like ‘Hey, the Sooth-Sayer/Mad-Woman of the Inquisition told us about you’, a little puzzle to tease might get his attention as much as gold.” I grin as I think about Bull. His mental chess game with Solas, his constant observations; I wonder if we would be around my mom’s dining room table with a puzzle if we were on Earth.

 

I lean back and _away_ as the two advisors share a strange look, Josie giggling while Leliana smirks. “I wonder if someone isn’t a _fan_.”

 

Oh, do I ruffle. Are they seriously trying to imply I have a crush on Bull? Helloooo, the Herald is a red head. Then there’s Dorian, whom I will be attempting to adopt as my baby brother. I am very positive that Bull wouldn’t look twice at me after he figures me all out. “The man took an axe to a giant’s face! ITS FACE!! He jumps off a rock formation and cleaves its FACE!!” I flail abit, my face getting even grumpier as Josie _and_ Leliana giggle now. “Oh, please _do_ excuse me for being amazed. Not like we have giants in America… Oh will you two quit?!”

 

 

 ********

 

 

Cassandra’s blade sinks deep into the back of the last wolf, twisting so it’s back is cut in two, ending the animal’s suffering. A last whine of pain pulls softly at the Seeker’s heart as she removed the sword from the body. This one had only been a few months old but had been driven mad by the demon. A shriek from her left had her shield at the ready, but the Herald’s short axe had passed neatly through the head of the demon. The Terror dissolved at their feet, just as a crack of lightning from the mage caused the last of the pups to yelp and cry. The sounds of pain seemed to be running for the cave entrance. Cassandra flung the tip of her blade to the side, sending bits of blood, fur and meat to the floor.

 

“Ok, I’m just going to throw this out here: _No_ body mention that there were babies here.” Varric stated as he jerked and clicked his crossbow into its resting position.

 

“Worrying for Ser Fannon’s feelings again, Varric?” The Herald asked with a touch of amusement, but also a hint of displeasure. Cassandra still felt uneasy with the Sooth-Sayer herself, so she would not blame the Herald for it.

 

“Ah, Fishie. Not just her. I think Seanna is partial to little canines too. Remember those little half Orlais pups she’s raising.” Varric offers to pacify the noble woman. The attempt works as Trevelyan’s shoulders ease and she looks in the direction of the farm. A small sparkle of want even comes to her eyes.

 

“Herald, are you not allergic?” Cassandra asks, wanting to confirm what she suspected she heard earlier. The Herald’s eyes narrowed briefly before turning a somewhat sad gaze onto the Seeker.

 

“Indeed I am. Being around any dog,” a sharp sneeze sends her a step forward for lack of balance. “Or wolves it seems, for any longer than five minutes seems to,” another sneeze erupts before she heads to leave. “Excuse me. Solas, look around for the items Fannon mentioned.”

 

Solas nodded at the command and he and the dwarf looked over for the different spots Fannon had mentioned. Cassandra followed Trevelyan outside, where she was still sneezing quite hard. The Seeker rested her hand on the other woman’s armored shoulder, offering silent companionship.

 

 

******* 

 

 

 _Beata Maria_ _You know I am a righteous man, of my virtue I am justly proud_.

 

A small squiggling weight against my chest worms all the more as I sing. Makes it rather hard to check on the bits of homework I had given Aaron and Elola and now 31 other children of Haven.

 

 _Beata Maria_ _You know I am so much purer than, the common, vulgar, weak Licentious crowd_.

 

The 6-month-old reaches for my pen as I circle Aaron’s multiplication mistake. Most of the kids are still floored by how easily I can rant off the table that I have given them. Only the underage mages are snapping it up easily so far, but at least now almost all of my original students have borrowing subtraction down. I boop the baby’s nose with the end of pen as I switch between pages.

 

_Then tell me, Maria, why I see her dancing there, why her smoldering eyes still scorch my soul._

 

Soft, downy black peach fuzz is tickling my neck as I fix Harkin’s, a freshly arrived orphan from the Crossroads, addition, flipping the page over to circle where he made his mistake in his steps. Two long little ears hit my voicebox as the baby tries to twist her way out of my little chest sling.

 

_I feel her, I see her. The sun caught in her raven hair is blazing in me out of all control_

 

“Should you really be singing such a song around a baby, Ser Fannon?” I jump a bit and look up to see a confused… like royally confused, Commander in front of me. The itty elf baby gives a ‘happy baby’ gurgle before trying to eat her fist. I give Cullen a half cheeky smirk as I answer him in the tone of the refrain.

 

_If she can, under-stan-nd, any thing I do-o say, then she is, free to, tell her mo-ther la-a-ter_

Cullen scoffs softly, shaking his head. Pretty sure most of Haven thinks I’m positively nuts. Kinda explains the ‘Mad Woman’ title that has sprung up after the Herald left. Though, as the advisors have explained, it’s more that people believe I am _having_ my ‘visions’ while singing. I’ve had people _run_ when I sing a downer song.

 

“Oh, Cullen, can you check that the tiny on my back is still sleeping?” I set my papers and pen down on the tiny desk Cullen has next to his tent before pulling my blanket open. Cullen nods before looking and I see a cute little smile cross his face. Damn that scar. I just wanna-

 

“The babe is sleeping sound. When are their mothers coming?” I fix the blanket back up to keep us all warm. Well, except my hands, but hey, gloves! The elf baby, whose name I really need to learn, chews on the blanket as I tuck it back in under her chin.

 

“At the half bell of 3… blaghhh, man that is weird to say. 3 dang thirty.” I give a small grr face. “That gives me another half hour, half bell, whatever the hecky heck, to try a new recipe. Oh,” and now I ‘glare’ at the ex-Templar, who blinks rapidly at my attempts of ‘angry’. “I don’t know why I have to remind you again, _Commander_ , but noodles are very fattening. Just because I make them delicious does not mean you need to eat three darn servings a day.” And cue the adorable, crap I just got caught, blush and neck rub that I _love_. “Lord almighty if I am actually able to make doughnuts.” I ‘scowl’ harder as Cullen looks obviously interested for a split second. “Don’t blame me~ if your armor needs letting out in the tummy. I mean, seriously Cullen, where do you think these came from?” I gave a dismissive gesture to my chest and gut, to which Cullen blushes even harder and covers his eyes before turning away a bit.

 

“Sweet Maker,” is all he says as he walks away. I grin; I really do have to stop teasing him. I just find it amusing that anyone, especially male, _actually_ takes notice of my chest. I can’t remember anyone on Earth doing so.

 

My eyes glace past my homework sheets to Cullen’s reports for a second, my mind stopping and telling me that I can read part of it from the quick look. I see Cassie’s name at the end. Looking around, noting Cullen is back to yelling at the soldiers, I gently and ‘sneakily’ pull it closer with my pen. Damn, this one is hard, even if Cassandra doesn’t use super flowy handwriting like most nobles. I see something about Dennet, watch towers, and Solas’ ‘magic ball’. Wow, they are booking it… then again, they’ve been gone for… crap! 17 days now. Along with the week spent in Haven before leave, that means the Inquisition has been around for 24 days! The Val Royeaux meeting was in 23 days. That only left them just over two weeks to get back to Haven to get to their ship on time. Ughhhh, my paranoia and need to be early for meetings and events has me up and heading for Josie. Just need to make sure the Herald will be on time. Dana and babies, ho!

 

 ******

 

“Welcome back, Bull’s Chargers,” calls a thick Orlesian voice from the main room. Heavy thuds of boots, leather and metal, sounded on the marble floor. The envoy, the leader, his lieutenant and a dark-haired elf approached the low level noble. Cremisius took the lead, the warrior’s hair freshly shaved on the sides while the rest of the brown locks were swept to the left side. He was freshly washed, like the other two; a requirement of their customer.

 

The tan-skinned Tevinter didn’t hear the gently giggling or half swoons of some of the ladies in waiting. Bull did though, and he’d make sure to leave an opening for his second-in-command at their inn tonight. He hoped the blonde with too much perfume and make-up that tried to hide several love bites wouldn’t be following. He was sure he scented sex welts on her.

 

The Qunari kept his shoulders relax, stepping in a swagger with his thumbs in his belt. Easy going, not a thought in his head, or so the Orlesians liked to believe. The dumb front man of the group while Krem was the actual leader. It amused Bull sometimes just how others would rather see what would bring them comfort versus the truth. Course, if they saw the keen eye as it swept long around the open room and its side halls, it’d make his real job a lot harder.

 

The noble himself was decent as nobles go. Well, decent to humans, Bull thought as the man’s lip curls just slightly as those eyes pass over Skinner. One of the reasons Bull was a half-step ahead of the dagger wielder. Given her story, and the bruised elf servant that was trying to shrink herself into a corner, it was taking a good deal of Skinner’s patience to not run the man through. Bull took a deeper, longer breath through his nose, focusing on the scents that came from the servant’s corner. He carefully slid the toe of his boot toward the woman, blowing out a breath rudely. A signal; the elf the pregnant and whiffs of recent blood gave Bull the information that this child was not welcome. If Skinner could get the woman out of the house unnoticed, they’d get her to an alienage. Skinner slowed and stopped outside of the meeting room, angling herself toward the other elf. Bull yawned loudly and gave an ‘indecent’ scratch to his balls to draw any attention off of her.

 

It worked; a few gasps from the ladies in waiting and the Baroness herself. Soft steps retreated behind him, and Bull gave no expression to show his pride at playing the snobs and rescuing someone who needed it.               

 

“Good evening, Baron.” Krem steps in, just out of arm’s reach and bows respectfully. “We’re happy to report the ‘bandits’ are taken care of. However, they were actually a small Tevinter cult though. They even had a giant with them. Still, everyone and everything was taken care of, Messere.”

 

“That is quite surprising! Tevinters this far South.” Bull outwardly rolled his eye back over to the Baroness and her ladies, winking slow at them while adjusting his belt. At least two of the ladies, and one male elf servant followed his thumbs. The ‘oversexed beast’ type was really working this crowd. Mentally, The Iron Bull went through his facts and theories files on the Baron. At least two of his Ben-Hassrath reports put someone in Val Chevin as being allied with the Vints. From the notes at the Vints camp, though, it wasn’t this Baron. This one would gain very little in allying with the Vints. He’d need to make a drop with the _Viddathari_ in town after his boys settled in for the night.

 

Krem continued with the report as Bull ‘became bored’ and wandered around the lavish room. He heard the Baroness’ breath hitch as he neared a nice vase. Antivan, mid-to-late Blessed Age. Least it would be if it wasn’t a cheap imitation. He kept his step lazy as he made a circle, given a longing look to the lady with the soft red tint to her blond hair. Her bodice was stuffed, but her quick eye aversion was of shyness, not disgust. This one was promising.

 

“Ah, do excuse me, Messere Bull,” the Baron called to him. Now that was different; it was the first time the Baron had directly addressed The Iron Bull. Still, Bull breathed out like it was annoying to be addressed, hearing the Baroness whisper ‘brute’ under her breath, before walking over. Ha, like she hadn’t been begging for a second roll with him before they had left last time. He stood over the Baron, ‘bored’ and popping his neck.

 

“Yeah?” A fresh scent of angry arousal came from behind him, but the Baron himself was starting to get all hot and bothered. Even without his sensitive nose, the blatant staring at his exposed chest, especially his nips, would have told him. What a pair these two were.

 

The Baron stares for a bit longer, especially after Bull flexed his abs. Southerners were so repressed about sex that it was too easy to play with them. The short one with the red-tint in her hair clears her throat, which breaks the other five’s concentration.

 

“Ah, yes.” The Baron clears his own throat and snaps his fingers twice. The male elf servant, a limp from a childhood injury on his right side, offers a letter on a tray to Bull. “A few letters have arrived for you. I must admit I do not know how they knew the Chargers were in the area,” that was a lie, but the Baron himself hadn’t been the one to tell some seeking client about them. He might be able to pick up the answer when he ‘snuck out’ with him later. “I only opened the first, as it was addressed to myself.” Lie number two, and Krem stiffened his shoulder some, just in case this got ugly. “They all seem to be from those Heretics of the ‘Inquisition’ near those dog lords.” Bull finally took the envelope that had carried the letters. Fairly expensive outer cover, water resistant with the oil coating. An old scent of those trees that grow in the center of Val Royeaux is rubbed off as Bull’s pinkie glides along the bottom of the package.

 

The rumors are whispered, something along the lines of proof of their lies if they are calling on mercs. Little did they know that The Iron Bull had received his orders to meet them two days ago. This was damn interesting timing.

 

“Ah, great. More Chantry nut jobs.” Tempers ignited throughout the room as Bull shoved the envelope to Krem’s chest. “Hold on to that, would you, Krem.” Bull wandered off again, leaning his back against the frame that connected the room to the hall. The Andrastians turned to Krem as the ‘reasonable’ one, letting Bull scout for Skinner in peace. Not seeing her or the earlier servant, he mentally congratulated her on getting the beaten woman out.

 

A few more thanks were expressed before a formal ‘let’s speak together in the library’ and a rather forgettable threesome. The Baron was willing but unable, and the Baroness wore out easily. A quick bucket of water and a towel scrubbed the humans off of him, and The Iron Bull looked forward to some real fun at the inn, after the letters. He lifted a few more off of the Baron as he left, especially the one that came with Bull’s, just to check for worthwhile rumors.

 

The boys hooted and cheered for him as he arrived back at the inn. He took the three mugs of mead offered to him by their handles on one hand before setting out for Krem. His lieutenant was in an upstairs room, paying out each of the crew in turn. The man handed back Bull’s letter without even looking up and Bull moved into his own room at the far end of the building.

 

Locking the door, he sniffed each of the mugs before setting everything down on the small table of the room. No one of his crew would drug him, but he had innkeepers try to sneak shit in before. The chair groaned under him, but held as he reached down to take off his boots and brace. His ankle was stiff, and the muscles complained some, but his evening pain powder would set things right. Using his pinkie, the only nail he kept unfiled down and still decently sharp, he cut open the wax seal. It was a fair reseal job, but he’d wait to pass judgment on the Baron.

 

The main note was in the same mid-range of expense like the outer envelope. A smaller note fell out as he unfolded the larger one, fluttering to his lap. A quick glance at that note told him a few things. One, with such horrible and blocky penmanship, it was from someone in the early stages of learning to write Common. The paper was cheaper and carried a very faint scent. It was something that he had not smelt in the South, which got him curious. The outside of the note, which was sealed with a fingerprint wax seal-bet that burned- said ‘open last’. He brought the small letter closer to his nose, eye widening just a hair. It was the scent of a mint from a plant most Southerners saw as a weed. He knew better; it was used in Par Vollen for stomach illnesses. Interesting. Didn’t make sense for an agent to sneak a note into a formal request for services letter.

 

Which was what the larger letter was. The Inquisition had received a number of glowing references about the company and was hoping to arrange a meeting in Val Royeaux in 3 weeks’ time. He scratched along his still short stubble. That brought several questions to mind. Why was this offshoot of the Chantry looking into their reputation in the first place? The letter called on Bull several times _by_ name. Montilyet… Antivan noble house, though no faces came to mind. A failing noble house at that. The timeline was interesting too; he’d heard plenty of talk about some meeting of the Chantry going down at the same time. Bull didn’t believe in coincidences.

 

It was easy enough to go along with it. A quick series of letters to report in, to get other agents ready in the Capital for new reports, work on his sales pitch and the boys would be happy to get the good whores and food.

 

Bull brought the smaller letter back up. This seal was not torn; the penmanship gave the appearance of being written by an idiot or a child to most people. He flipped it open, an eyebrow immediately going up.

 

“Hello, Bull. Aren’t you curious? Horns up!”

 

His name was better written than the other words, meaning that the author had practiced it. Oh yeah, he was curious. Whoever this was knew the crew’s rallying cry.

 

A smirk pulled at his lips before he rubbed it off. This was a puzzle, but a side one. First, he was going to grab a sweetie to make the evening worth it and write up a request to explain his Ben-Hassrath status to whoever he’d be meeting for the Inquisition.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More view points, more skips, and a few bets lost.

**_Bull brought the smaller letter back up. This seal was not torn; the penmanship gave the appearance of being written by an idiot or a child to most people. He flipped it open, an eyebrow immediately going up._ **

**_ “Hello, Bull. Aren’t you curious? Horns up!” _ **

**_His name was better written than the other words, meaning that the author had practiced it. Oh yeah, he was curious. Whoever this was knew the crew’s rallying cry._ **

**_A smirk pulled at his lips before he rubbed it off. This was a puzzle, but a side one. First, he was going to grab a sweetie to make the evening worth it and write up a request to explain his Ben-Hassrath status to whoever he’d be meeting for the Inquisition._ **

 

 

********

 

Ugh, finding a _quiet_ out of the way corner is seriously hard when a church is crawling with sisters and runners. I wiggle myself into the corner next to a cold stove and pull my Kindle from my belt. I keep it close to my gut and turned the light down. It’s only 1.5 bells which means the kitchen staff is getting their half hour for lunch now. I’ll be on babysitting duty after, so I need to hurry.

 

I flip to my _Essential Oils and their Uses_ book. The peppermint oil was proving a hit in the healers’ tents and Josie has been ecstatic that what they thought of as a weed can be added to foods, cleaning products and other things to be marketable. But today, I am on a different mission. I need to make presents.

 

Sera’s was actually the hardest to think up. In my playthrough with her as a romance, nearly as short as my Solas one, the Inquisitor went around to everyone trying to get her a present, and no one had an idea. This gift would be slightly easier as there wouldn’t be much feelings behind it. Just a ‘Hey, welcome to the party’ present. I really wanted to get her a new outfit, but with no measurements to go off of, that was shot down fast. Leliana actually helped this time. After explaining a bit about Sera’s personality, Leliana offered a recipe for Antivan Fire grenades. I’m going to be sending those off with a new bow that Harriet’s been working on. If it’s not better than her current one, it’s still a nice idea.

 

Madame de Fer, my nose wrinkles, is easy if real life goes along with the game. I warned the crew to be on the lookout for Circle books in the Hinterlands while not going to Redcliffe itself. Turns out there _was_ a Circle book and it had been sent back to Haven within a week of Trevelyan arriving. Butter up the noble and all that good shit.

 

Bull Bull Bull, ughhhhh. Why must the one person who might kidnap me and ship me away to another country be the one I was positive I was going to get along with? I had made it my sad vow to not interact with him for as long as I could. A person who could see the future is a hot ticket, but I have no interest in being used by the Arishok, even if I wished to meet him. Now, that didn’t mean I wasn’t promoting the hell out of Bull to the advisors, and his present was easy to think up; just not easy to make.

 

Horn balm. What in the seven hells went into horn balm?

 

I have numerous plants available for use. All my little mage students love being useful, and our farm has grown. That weird patch of trees next to the Chantry had always bugged me in game and had been cleared the week the Herald was here. We now have elfroot, lavender, peppermint and even some food stuffs growing.

 

Lavender, lavender my finger flicks through the index.

 

Good for soothing skin, but what were Bull’s horns made out of? Were his like rhino horns? Were they hollow inside? And what to make the base out of? I drop the essential oils and search the tablet for any lotion references.

 

I stiffen as heavy, measured steps enter the room. I stow my Kindle quick and peek around. I blink as Cullen, de-mantled and de-gloved, pours some water from our barrels into a pot. He adds some sticks to the far glowing stove before setting the pot on it. He then goes over to my towels and towels of fresh cut fettuccine noodles.

 

GASP, now he’s just downright stealing!

 

I’m up, quietly for a change, and I grab a wooden spoon from the bowls beside me. I smack it down hard on his armored shoulder, making him jump. Once he sees it’s me, he looks rightly embarrassed and ashamed.

 

“Cullen Stanton Rutherford, what did I say about the noodles? And now you just… stealing. UHH! What would your siblings think of you now?” I push him aside and grab a decent serving size of noodles and also grab the seasonings and chicken broth. “Just… really! So ashamed of you.”

 

I grin as I hear a short snort behind me while I make him a snack. I still try to glare over my shoulder at him. “You are damn lucky I like you. Stealing my noodles. And you are writing a letter to your sister, TODAY, mister. Lord, I would skin my brother alive if he didn’t tell me he was safe and sound after a war broke out at his old job.”

 

The water boils quickly and the broth and seasonings are great for adding flavor to the noodles themselves. I add two strips of salted pork in, letting them boil with the noodles.

 

“You’re rather-”

 

“AH!” I turn around, flailing my spoon at him. He stiffens, but those eyes are shining with a need to laugh. “Thieves stay quiet.” I crack the wood against the pot to make my point. I find a clean bowl, dust the bottom with grated cheese, added the noodles, more cheese on top and the two slices of pork. I thrust the bowl into his hands and point to a tiny table and chair next to the main fire. “And don’t let me catch you stealing my noodles again.”

 

“Alright,” I want to purr at his voice as he smiles his thanks at me. Course I don’t say anything when I hear, “I won’t let you catch me.”

 

 

*****

 

 

 

The whole of Val Royeaux was abuzz with the news of the Inquisition. Lady Vivienne smoothed her perfectly lined and embroidered dress, no creases to be seen as she thought. She had listened closely to what was and wasn’t said. She tapped her powder brush gently and smoothed it over the top of her bare head. The gently scented powder would keep her hat from shifting as she went into town. No one had been able to prove that the supposed Herald of Andraste hadn’t at least temporarily closed the hole in the sky. A perfectly pressured trace of lipsheen flowed around both of her lips. Either the green depth that had been burned into her hand was the mark of true divinity or magic gone horribly wrong, and both ideas were believed. She moved to exit her room, never casting an eye to her servants. She knew her home would still be immaculate once she returned.

 

Rumors met the Grand Enchantress’ ear in person as she made her way into the market today.

 

“Did you hear the newest rumors?” The fruit vendor was speaking with a Dwarven trader, who looked bored at the idea of discussing rumors.

 

“Which one, the one that says the Herald of Andraste is some desire demon in physical form, the one that says she’s a saint given life, or the one that says she’s a noble trying to fix a broken world?”

 

“No, my diminutive friend, the one that says she is bringing her forces to Val Royeaux in two weeks.”

 

“Isn’t there some meeting with the Chantry during that time? I thought she was invited?”

 

Vivienne continued to the main Cathedral, to give her daily respects to the late Divine.

 

Hm, how interesting for the Herald to be coming in person…

 

 

 

 

*****

 

 

“Well, thank you, Warden Blackwall. But now where does that leave us?” Marina mused aloud, partially to herself and partially to the man before her. Fannon’s description of the Warden was mostly on the mark, though a few things were different. Where Fannon had described a mid-to-late 50s man, Trevelyan saw a man in his early 40s who suffered from a life of hard work. His eyes, nearly as pale as her own, were surrounded by deep ‘lack of sleep’ bruises. His skin had been worn by weather and sun, aging him. His rich black hair and brows, which were nearly as thick as Fannon’s, seemed to pull the color from his face. The ‘big enough for birds to make a nest in’ beard was there, but his hair was longer than expected and tied with a band at the base of his neck. A sense of illness or lack of food surrounded him, though the fitness of his armor said it had not been for long.

 

Marina had listened in on Blackwall’s command of the farmers who had sought out his aid. The man had past experience as a leader, nearly glowing while giving orders. It seemed strange that the Wardens would allow such a leader to be off on his lonesome. That did pose a boon for her though; she had been saved by his shield and sword arm.

 

“Inquisition, agent? Hold a moment.” Marina was brought out of her thoughts as the man drew her attention. “The Divine is dead and the sky is torn. Events likes these, thinking the Wardens are absent is almost as bad as thinking we are involved.” Marina pondered that as well. Fannon had mentioned that they would be hearing more from the Wardens, possibly even from the King and Queen of Ferelden. “If you are trying to put things right in the world, maybe you need a Warden, maybe you need me.” The man dipped at the waist as he offered his services.

 

“Warden Blackwall, I accept your offer of help.”

 

“Damnit!” Marina’s eyebrows turned up at the short exclamation by Varric. She turned to see the dwarf tearing up a small slip of paper, throwing the pieces into the lake next to them. “Almost word for word _again_!”

 

Cassandra’s face turned in first surprise, then disgust. The elf seemed to chuckle softly into the hand holding his staff. “You doubted Ser Fannon? I believe she has more than proven her knowledge of our ‘meeting new comrades’ conversations when she repeated back the one we shared with Trevelyan.”

 

“I was sure it was just a fluke! She _could have_ guessed. I mean she’d gotten to know us and took an educated guess.” The dwarf attempted to rationalize.

 

“How many people would have guessed that I would ask if you were part of the Chantry?” Marina offered as an argument. She had been aware that there was some form of bet going on about Fannon’s knowledge of the Hinterlands.

 

Blackwall cleared his throat, permission to enter back into the conversation. “I’m afraid I’m a bit lost, m’lady.”

 

“Forgive us, Warden Blackwall. You should be aware that the Inquisition has a Sooth-Sayer. Ser Dana Fannon. She is… very accurate in what she knows. Sometimes even down to the very conversations some of us might have.”

 

“She’ll also know your deepest, darkest secrets, so if you ever kicked a puppy, she might call you out on it.” Varric offered before growling under his breath and slapping at the elf mage’s outwardly stretched hand. “Alright already, Chuckles. Here, two silvers. Now let’s get moving. Are we still taking a boat to Val Royeaux, Seeker?”

 

Blackwall watched as the Inquisition turned to walk to their camp. Blackwall gulped harshly and prayed to the Marker this Sooth-Sayer’s abilities were exaggerated.

 

*****

 

Leliana’s eyes followed Fannon as she left the Chantry after her reading and writing practice with Josephine. The woman had herself wrapped in babies again with a third charge, a two or three-year-old toddler clutching her hand. Those strange ‘earphones’ were a near permanent fixture to her head while out in town. The teacher had still not explained their use and was quick to hide them away should anyone come to speak with her.

 

Leliana’s eyes drifted from the woman to others around her, spying Vanril and Feyriel staying at their respective, nondescript distances while watching Fannon. Vanril looked to the spymaster and lazily brushed a finger from her lip to her voice box. Ah, someone new was after Fannon’s life. This would be the third person to try since the Herald had awoken. The last one had been far too close. If not for Cullen’s quick action and shield…

 

Fannon turned into her farm which was currently filled with about half of Haven’s now 45 children. A small elf mage, the young Elola who followed Fannon so closely, took hold of the toddler, before sitting back on her small area of ground. Fannon took her place on a box, reaching behind to make sure the small babe there was safe. The children each took hold of a stick, and at some command of Fannon’s, began to write their answers on the overturned ground in their area.

 

A flash of movement from the left of the little cove caused Leliana’s instincts to trigger and for her to pull a dagger from her gloves. A smile crossed her lips as she saw Feyriel quickly and quietly strike down Fannon’s attempted assassin. The man’s bow and arrows were kicked away by a third guard, Quill. Sheathing her dagger, Leliana calmly watched the class continue.

 

It was interesting to watch the woman. Her natural tendency to sing and be cheerful had caused much confusion and at first unease in Haven. Others still fled or hid at her passing, believing her songs were actually chants for curses. Leliana herself did not feel any form of threat from the instructor, though she did feel fear _for_ her. Fannon’s condition, Silent Eye, made her oblivious to nearly all forms of threat and danger. She had a very bad habit of being out alone at night, coming into Haven to try a recipe from her country. Leliana had even directly spoken to her about the dangers of a woman alone at night. She had simply blinked a few times before scoffing and waving her hand. ‘Why would anyone pay attention to my fat ass, Nightingale?’

 

Fannon’s attitude that others did not pay attention to her called Leliana to investigate. It started to become clearer while watching the Sooth-Sayer in the tavern. Dana moved to a small table in the corner, and sat there, quietly, for nearly two full bells. During the first quarter bell, others had noticed her presence, but after that, she seemed to dissolve into the background. That seemed to be a common trend. If Fannon was quiet, others did not take notice of her.

 

Of course, her sense of dress helped in allowing her to be forgotten. Fannon had taken to wearing a bland cloak and hood nearly everywhere she went now. She had blended in so well that Flissa was spooked when Fannon called out asking for more water. One of the other strange things about Fannon, the constant wanting of water versus any other drink. Though, with her explanations about ‘germs’ and ‘hydration’, boiled water was becoming more and more popular throughout town.

 

Then there was at least one conflicting element of her nature. If Fannon was out in town, she was exceedingly friendly. However, if she asked for ‘personal time’ or was back at her cabin, she was nearly hostile about being left alone. The Commander had been the one on the receiving end of the latter event. The ex-Templar had come back into town floored at the hissing sarcasm that had dripped off of her as he had pushed her to return for more training.

 

A puzzling woman wrapped around confliction, buried in a curious mystery.

  
  
*****

 

“Excuse me, Messere, but I _have_ to compliment your eyes!”

 

Josephine smiled softly as she listened in on Fannon complimenting another person as she headed for the kitchen, still working on ‘a gift’ of some kind. For a woman who playfully complained about not having manners, Fannon never stopped complimenting seemingly random people. Other acts of kindness came nearly as easy as her humming throughout the Chantry. A number of times she was doing something and simply stopped whatever it was to offer aid. Holding doors, carrying boxes, even chasing down small children whose parents looked away for a moment. Josephine had asked once, why she was so kind if she was busy doing other things. Fannon had cocked her head, eyebrows pinching hard before saying ‘I’d want people to do it for me. Besides, it doesn’t cost me anything.’

 

The number of new ideas, foods, and aids coming from somewhere in her memory, or perhaps this ‘magic tome’ she claims she has, had already helped. Illnesses were dropping, due to cleanliness and some of her recipes. Ways of crafting sellable items were bringing small bits of gold in. Families were overjoyed to have someone teaching their children for no cost. Life in Haven was perking up, and Fannon never asked for credit. Josephine herself had heard at least one person trying to thank her for making life in Haven easier. She had blushed, waving her hands to dismiss the idea, and said ‘No, I can only help because the Herald is bringing us supplies. Make sure to thank her when she gets back.’

 

Then there was her accidental charming of at least two Nobles by her heartfelt comments. A simple compliment about a Noblewoman’s hair decorations, quickly matched by her husband, had the woman preening in moments and donating soon after.

 

Now if they could simply manage her persistent bad mouth. Of course, wonders to the Maker, she was able to censor herself most of the time, and of course, would scold anyone for swearing near her charges. However, in the war room or other places out of the public eye, the words flowed like a river. It was still worris-

 

“Jo~sie~,” Josephine popped her head up from her paperwork to see Fannon entering with a huge smile and a tray of something that smelled delicious. Small, rounded buns with holes pressed out of the middle… and what was that on top?

 

“Please be careful, these are still really hot. And you’ll need a napkin after. These are meant to be finger food.”

 

Josephine carefully lifted one of the sticky breads from the tray, blowing on it to cool it, before taking a small bite. Blessed Maker! Did the Antivan just _moan_ in delight? Fannon’s beaming face told her yes.

 

“We call these doughnuts, and they come in a range of flavors. This is one of the simplest. A sugar glaze. Not the least expensive in Thedas, but hopefully I can remember how to process sugar more effectively. Got to get these two to Leliana and Cullen.” The woman then dips down, kissing Josephine’s hair. The ambassador had learned quickly that Fannon’s was _exceptionally_ affectionate if allowed, and Josephine certainly was not one to deny such gentle friendship. “Oh, if you lick your fingers, make sure-”

 

“To wash up. Not to worry, Ser Fannon. I always have my wash basin stocked up now.”

 

Fannon winks, clicking her tongue too, before turning to the door. She stops in an instant and whirls back quickly, a mild put off expression taking over her face. “Did you know Cullen’s been up here, _again_ , stealing my noodles? I swear, when I delivery his doughnut, I’m also beating his fucking ass. What kind of example is he setting? The kiddos go train with him every day!”

 

Josephine smiled to herself at Fannon’s complaints. The fact that the Commander was sneaking snacks was a good sign, as almost no one ever saw him it at proper meal times. Also, Josephine had it on very good authority that if Fannon catches Cullen during his snacks, she makes him extra. Their relationship was quite cute, even if either of them realized how ‘flirtatious’ they were to each other.

 

 

******  


Cullen had died and had taken his place at the side of the Maker. Whatever this treat of Fannon’s was, he was sure she had gotten the recipe from the Maker on high. His eyes closed as the dough collapsed on his tongue and the chilled icing cracked when pressure was applied.

 

“You look so _cute_ right now!” Fannon commented. After over a month of hearing it and a number of others like it, Cullen had finally submitted himself that Fannon simply ‘complimented’ on reflex.  The Commander was still confused and regularly caught off guard by this strange and forward woman, but no longer felt his earlier uneasy around her. She used her knowledge of his family to get him to engage with them. The knowledge of the disuse of lyrium had her working on some form of ‘painkiller’ for her country’s ‘migraines’ for a chance to ease his pain. She had also seemed to understand his enjoyment of working with children and the two of them had started a one bell long training camp for the children of Haven. Looking down at the sparkling brown eyes, he fell into a piece of himself he didn’t get a chance to show often, nor to many people.

 

He teased.

 

“Even if these are from the Maker himself, you are not getting out of your evening run, recruit.”

 

The reaction was instant. She puffed, blood rushing to her face as she tried to decide quickly if he was serious or simply picking on her. There had been a few cases of his or another’s teasing being taken seriously by the woman. Her eyes dashed frantically to his, searching. He cocked his brows up, the signal he had developed to show he was in fact teasing, and she relaxed.

 

“So, Ser Sass, even an order from the Maker doesn’t stop the Commander from running a poor woman till she pukes, huh? Jerk.” She then ‘shoulderbumps’ him. “So you liked it? They are easy to make, but sugar is rare in Thedas. I’ll have to look for some different toppings. And!” She points a newly lacquered fingernail at him. It was apparently something she and Leliana shared joy in. “These are even more fattening! Don’t think I don’t know you are still sneaking my noodles!” The waving finger is nearly as imposing as the wooden spoon she liked to use against him. That was to say, not imposing at all. “The newly arriving people have priority over my food stuffs.” Her tone drops its playful inflection as she looks out toward the lake. Dozens of new tents line the area, and Cullen knows more line the wooden walls of the town behind him. Cullen understood her concerns immediately. There were many who were weak and sick. Fannon’s services as a child guardian and teacher had helped a number of those burdened, but it was her ways of getting ‘calorie dense’ food to the masses that had empowered many.

 

And made her a target. Cullen shivered as his mind recalled the sight of a bowman aiming for the plump woman who had been telling him about the similarities of their religions. The gasp she made as he had pulled her to his chest, covering her with his shield the moment before a solid thuck sounded. The assassin was killed moments after, and it took moments longer for Fannon to realize what had happened. When she did, she fainted into the snow at his feet.

 

“I hereby promise not to steal your ‘dough-nuts’, Ser Fannon.”

 

She gave him a playful ‘cross’ expression before throwing up her one hand to the sky and raising the tray to tap her forehead. “Still no promises to not steal my noodles?!! GAHHHH!”

 

Cullen smirked softly to himself as the woman walked away, though it widened as several children came running for her, passing their ‘homework’ to her to be checked. He turned his eyes back to the soldiers under his charge.

 

****                                

 

 Ugh, what the hell am I singing?! I hum the bar for the third time as I wring out my lady garments into my bucket. I’ve gone through now five sets of my under things and I STILL can’t tell what this tune is. I go over to my drying line, setting the last pieces up for the night. I look down to my right, main-room wall to count my logs for the fire. I have 15, which most rational Haven..ites? Haveners? People can make due with for a couple of days. My paranoia, though, says I should spend one of my free half bells and get more. It would be a bit of work, but I’d get to see Lil Lucy and Momma AJ, and damn I really need more inventive names for animals.

 

I walk over to my desk area and flip to my Friday, yes, same names, schedule. Up at morning 4 bell, to the training yard by 5th bell for which way Cullen wants me to run, and I have up to 9th bell to finish. If I finish early, and I have started to, I can use that time as I wish. 9th bell to 10th bell is sitting in with Josie to practice. 10th to 11 and a half is Class A with the kids. I round up any little bitties whose working moms need a hand and head to a blank spot on the farm that we use to write our work in. The older kids, 10 and up, help out with the younger ones in terms of getting them to sit and at least not run off. Any baby babies are put into a spot blocked off by boxes and given little wooden toys or wrapped up in slings to be cuddled by either myself or the older kids again.

God, I love my classes! Still wasn’t confident in my own skills to _teach_ Common, but we were learning lots of other things. OHHH, the faces when I mixed vinegar and baking soda. The whole time was spent explaining acids and bases, and Aaron had politely shared the idea of putting a spoonful of baking soda in water to a visiting noble suffering from heartburn. Aaron had gotten 25 coppers as a tip! My eyes had gotten wet when he offered to use the money to get some class supplies. I told him no, that my own money was going to class necessities. He had pouted like a sweetheart, but cheered up once I made the suggestion of using the money to buy some apples to share with Elola.

 

Oh, the blushing and the _cuteness_ as the two ate under a tree together!!

 

11:30 to 12:30 was my lunch break, but I rarely used the whole time. I tend to eat fast and use the leftover time to walk around town. Fridays, especially, because I have a weekly order to pick up from Seggrit. Josie, and likely the others, were frustrated at my attempted refusal of a monthly stipend of 25 silver. I was, of course, frustrated at them giving it to me for not being able to _really_ help out. Damn, did I want to see the Hinterlands. I only stopped complaining when Leliana pointed out that my hand washing idea had reduced the number of illnesses despite the increase in people. So, instead of dealing with most of the money directly, I posed orders to Seggrit every Friday and picked them up the next. Seggrit didn’t try to swindle Josie. At the end of the month, last week, I would be given any remaining money ‘owed’ directly. So I set my left over 2 silvers and 37 coopers into getting pencils started. (Well, 3 silvers, but one would be used for some _one_ else.) We had plenty of wood, and at least a few people who wanted to help.

 

12:30 to 2 is my designated Leliana time. She has different things planned each time, trying to puzzle every little bit of information out of me. She doesn’t always use her time, and we had actually had a small fight early on. After making the schedule, she had decided one day to change it without taking any other parts of it into account. I panicked, as I have a habit of doing when someone breaks my schedule. It was only for a moment as Leliana quickly recognized how upset I was. We talked about why I was upset and why my schedule was so important. She… complained? Ordered? Me to be more flexible. I snapped that I could be, but if she wanted to do something every day with me, like she said, she had to see that a set time was more productive. I can do surprises, I can do spontaneity. I could decide at 7 am on a Saturday to just go grab a train and head an hour north to Seoul. But for something every day, a set time was so much more comforting. We came to an agreement that if I arrived for Leliana’s time, and she couldn’t speak with me, I would wait in the tavern for her time slot. If she wanted to speak to me later, she would try to find me before 8, the time I usually went home.

 

2-3:30 was Class B time now. This class was smaller and even had an adult now. Mrs. Letcher was a senior who had been nothing but a farm woman her whole life. Her family had stomped down on her desire to learn anything. The kids call her GG, a nickname I had shared that my nephews had called my grandmother.

 

3:30 to 5 was my general free time, though the 3:30 to 4:30 is now the kiddos’ time to get some lessons from Cullen. Grading work, helping more working moms and dads, trying out recipes.

 

5 to 6 was my evening workout with Cullen. Lord, and I thought I hated my morning ones. I have yet to _not_ puke after he puts me through some form of twisted hell.

 

I head back into town and enjoy the evening in some form until 8 _most_ nights. Sometimes my trial recipes need a second go through and I’m out late. Back in the cabin, I go through my Kindle and write down anything I can think of that I want to try to help out. Friday were long nights as Saturday mornings were church days and I didn’t go.

 

I feed my evening fire and head into my kitchen, wash basin, bed area. I grab my bottle of medication potion that Solas got set up for me. I take one heavy mouthful a night and it works as well as my Earth meds. Hell, even my random, sharp ‘hey, remember when you did this stupid thing’ thoughts are less frequent. I pull up the little hand mirror that Leliana got me and look over myself.

 

I’d naked but for panties at the moment. Hey, I’m home alone, curtains drawn and I have a bad habit of splashing water when I do laundry. I wave the mirror over myself and notice where I’m losing the weight. Sadly, it’s mostly my hips and my tush. I still have 50 Triple D tits and gut, but my butt is pulling in. It still has this weird square shape to it though. Leliana says she can’t see it, but as a woman from America where booty videos are everywhere, I long for the soft and _round_ tush of my dreams. I poke at my gut, watching the roundness dent and then jiggle on release. Why won’t you just die?!

 

Oh, there starts the med. I throw on my sleep clothes before settling in to run into _Hahren_.

 

“ _On dhea’lam, da’len,_ ” Solas speaks just after taking my pinkie. I grin from the ahrene he uses to announce himself to his face. He looks a little worn tonight.

 

“ _On dhea’lam, ahren. Ar las ga ane sun._ ” I think my tongue twisted on the last part.

 

His gentle itty bitty smile confirms it. “ _Son_. _Ar las ga ane son_.”

 

“ _Son son son sun_ , blaghhhhhh. My tongue hates elven. Whyyyyy?” I pout for a second before grinning up again. “No ‘Strange Shit from Fannon’s country’ today. I perfected my doughnut recipe though. Please tell me you guys are on the way back. It’s getting close to time.”

 

Solas eyebrow raises slightly before he rubs at his jaw for a moment. “Are the advisors concerned that we will not arrive in time?

 

“No, just me. I did explain my paranoia, right? I hate even the _idea_ of being late, especially for something this important. Ahg, I mean, I’m not even going to this meeting and I’m worried.”

 

“There is nothing to fear, _da’len_. The Herald had us camp early this evening that we might arrive by mid-morn.”

 

I gasp in joy, doing a little butt wiggle of happiness. “Yes! Oh, it’ll be good to see you guys again! I have to explain a plan to you guys, but can you and Varric meet me in the tavern for dinner? I and a few others have started on the pencils I’ve mentioned.”

 

He side nods but he looks behind himself suddenly. “Excuse me, Fannon. Another wishes to speak with-”

 

“Hi Wisdom!!” I wave behind him, even though I still only see a black void.

 

He gives that little choked laugh he does when I surprise him, before shaking his head. Can’t tell if that is an amused shaking or a ‘I’m being too much’ shaking. “She returns your greeting… and wishes you a good sleep.”

 

“ _Ma serannas,”_ I wince at Solas, raising my eyebrows in question and beam as he nods for my pronunciation. “You two have a good night.”

 

 

Night’s cold. Quiet too. Think there’d be more action. Ms Herald-Fancypants would be ‘ere in a week, maybe sooner. The nobs have been talking. Good half wan’a string ‘er up in the mid’le of the market. Too bad, yeah?, that the nobs n’ver listen to the little people. Lotsa talk coming from Marabi land. Fancypants she was, she still helped lotsa lil people. Chased down some food, cured some sickies, killed the idiot Temps and magicers.

 

Sera cocked her head as some _big_ fucker and about half dozen of his mates entered the inn on the other side. Preddy sure those were horns.

 

Then there was the idea that Ms. Fancypants _really_ was sent by Andraste. Not sure. Seems weird for the Marker to let some big bad magic out on the world only to have a single biddy be able to close ‘em.

 

That’s why Sera wanted front row view of the meeting. If she liked what she saw, she’d offer Ms. Nob a chance to take down a not so nice prissypants.

 

Sera quietly stalked the rooftops, looking for her best view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And March is complete... and we have reached a problem.
> 
> And their names are Bull and Sera. OHhhhhh how I like you two, but how hard you are to write. Sera's speaking dialect kills me from my teaching stand point (and Fannon will call her out on it for teasing) which means she is hard to write for.
> 
> Bull is a pain in the ass because he is naturally MUCH more perceptive than me. (author and character) I'm needing, and receiving, help with reviewing how Bull would see and interpret Fannon's actions and words. I know Bull would be watching EVERYTHING of this strange woman, but Fannon (and author) do not monitor our body language. We just go with the flow.
> 
> {Also, irl, I am sick. No solid food for three days now. No voice, lots of chest goop, 'please just shot me' sick. I'm actually posting a half hour into Friday cause I just want to sleep.}
> 
> So long and short, what does all this mean to you all? I'm taking April off to chapter buffer and once again tryyyyy to get my next chapter of Fallout started.
> 
> In the mean time, I would love for the following questions to be answered in the comments (along with any story comments of course):
> 
> Are romantic relationships important to you in a fiction?
> 
> Are sexual relationships? (be aware, Bull gets to Haven, people ARE getting laid. Most of my fics are adult in nature to some degree.)
> 
> What are some of the differences you've noticed between Fannon and Trevelyan? Similarities?
> 
> And because Varric will introduce the idea before leaving for Orlais within the next 3+ chapters, place your bets in the Shipping pool. (Varric will name it so after Fannon gives a definition of 'Shipping') ALL Inquisition members are up from grabs. *evil plotting cackle* Please state your reasons; I LOVE reasons. Makes me think as a person and an author.
> 
> Sleeeeepiessss


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Heroes return, and trouble continues.

The pings of multiple brass pegs falling onto a plate wake me up with a start. I almost immediately recognized it as my alarm clock/candle and groan into my ever-growing pillow nest. It’s a great little invention. A perfectly timed candle with little pegs in it. When the candle burns down to your hour of choice, the pegs fall down into the base, chiming you awake.

 

Doesn’t mean I like waking up though.

 

I growl and grumble as I half fall out of bed. The candle is wayyyy off in the middle of my main room. I have to blow it out or it’ll start dropping pegs every two minutes. I set the extinguished candle and its pieces on my writing desk. I yawn, stretch and grumble some more as I start stripping again. I grab my two room temp buckets of water that I keep semi close to the fire. One bucket goes immediately into my tub. It’s not big enough to get my body in, _at all_ , but it’s deep enough to dunk my head in for my hair. Monday, Wednesday and Friday are my hair washing days with at least one body wash every day.

 

GAH COLD! I swish my hair around in my tub, before pulling out some and scrubbing it hard with my goat’s milk soap bar. I still can’t believe I saved the book on my Kindle, but damn has it come in handy. I then step into the tub and start splashing myself down with my water cup. Scrub the ‘stank’ areas an extra three times before lifting my clean water over me. Cold cold coldcoldcold!

 

I turban my hair up and start on my deodorant powder. Some blend of baking soda and something else left in a jar with some dried baby’s breath leaves. Gentle scent, but very good for sweaty days. Pat the under arms, the under tummy, between the boobage, and the top of the tush. I reach into my purse and grab my hair brush and peppermint oil vial. A drop on the pinkie for one spot on the back of the neck, each wrist and right under my own nose. I put the oil back in my purse, which I’ve had to go back to using for all the new vials I carry along _with_ my belt, for fresh ups later.

 

I brush down my legs, feeling for if I need to shave yet. Josie and Leliana were both blown away by the American culture’s stigma and conditioning for women to be hairless. I knew I was brainwashed because I HATED body hair, even on men. Leliana had made a quip about shocking Varric and all his chesty glory with that info. Josie was a doll and was looking into a cream she had heard of for hair removal. In the meantime, I got a straight razor, and _daymnnnn,_ was that thing scary to use. I still hadn’t tried it on my under arms, but I was feeling the tension to with how long it was getting. Lord, am I glad my hoo-ha takes forever to grow back once shaved. It’s still fairly short from before my fall into Thedas. My mustache and chin whiskers get a bi weekly shave.

 

Brush the hair. Brush the teeth. Clothes next. Undies and breast band, under tunic, running pants, over tunic and jacket. My blue and green set today. I look over at my 24 hour candle, marked off at hour marks after 10 pm and at quarter bells after 4 am. Still got a half hour, though I’ll leave at the last quarter. I double check all my goodies. Vials of peppermint oils, lavender oil, and two extra of each for Cullen. Turns out that the scents of both have been helping him _get_ to sleep. Now we just needed to find a way for him to _stay_ asleep. My iPod, Kindle, and one extra battery come with. My phone tends to stay most days. If I need some time alone with my family videos, I just run back here. No one has stopped me since I, unfortunately, snapped at Cullen. My solar charger is on the floor under my north window every day, waiting to charge up my batteries or iPod directly. I now carry dozens of little homework scraps, and two new journals, along with all of my pens, what’s left of my hair ties, both sets of earphones, my multi tool and switchblade. I fan out my hair, setting the towel on my drying rope and spend the rest of the time letting my hair dry as much as it can. At 4:45, to me, I throw my storm gray hooded cloak on, and put on my boots. I have to wiggle them on carefully because now I have an ankle brace in the right one. Soooooo helpful. I open my jar of breakfast tack, which I have to suck on just to bite into, and I head out the door…

 

My chest is _screaming_ as I finish up my 15 laps around the lake. Fuck, Cullen must have not slept last night, to want to run me into the ground today. I stumble, catching myself on the desk next to his tent, while I try to locate that handsome but evil asshole. A few of the senior soldiers give me pitying looks, which gets me to bare my teeth between pants. I finally spot the Commander between tents, talking with some newly arrived Templars. Removing my earbuds and shoving them away, I wobble over and salute, waiting for his acknowledgement.

 

He keeps me waiting, more so than normal, and as he turns, I see the darker tint of his eye shadows. Yup, no sleep for the Commander. Means no mercy for _anyone_. “Recruit?”

 

“Ex-ercise complete-d, ser.” Fuck, I can barely form words, and I’m getting dizzy. I think I see his arm twitch, like he’s ready to catch me if I go down.

 

“Understood recruit. At ease,” and with that, I go from being a recruit to an ‘advisor’ “Any news from the Fade, Fannon?”

 

“So-las said, Oh Jesus,” I double over, feeling Cullen’s hand catch my shoulder to stop me from going all the way over. “He said may-be mid morn-ing. Snow, please.”

 

“Of course, Fannon,” and I wobble my way over to my snow mound. I don’t know _who_ , but I do know someone, or someones, refills my sectioned off snow pile to flop into after every run. I collapse face first and lay there, just trying to breathe. I hear some wood being adjusted, and I’m pretty sure Cullen just brought his desk and chair over to sit with me. Least I know that my snow pile has a good view of the whole training yard.

 

“You did well, Fannon.” The small bit of surprise in his voice makes me want to kick some snow at him. “You are completing your laps faster and faster. Soon you might actually _enjoy_ them.”

 

Yup, kicking snow. I kick twice at him, hearing a soft scoff under his breath. A few minutes of me getting my air back and I sit back on my heels. Fuck he looks tired. “Purse, please, Commander?” Those golden eyes blink down at me before he pulls my bag from the desk. I quickly pull out the bottles of oils I made for him and hand them over. “Some bottles for you, we need to get you sleeping better.”

 

The bottles look tiny in his broad hands, and he rolls them back and forth. “I wish some _thing_ would work. I’ve been told I look quite ‘rough’ this morning.” He keeps his voice low and soft. I narrow my eyes, oh, he’d better not be thinking…

 

“Cullennnnn,” He looks at me directly now, noticing my more teacher correcting tone. “You better not be thinking anything about that blue trash. I WILL bean you.”

 

He goes still for a few moments, before sighing and looking down at his boots. Yup, time to bean. I grab my fist full of snow and pelt him in the ear with it. “You are too strong to need a crutch, Cullen Rutherford.”

 

Eep! mad face. “It is not a crutch. As Commander of the Inquisition I must be-”

 

I cut him off by grabbing him by his fluff and pulling at him and myself up. I smack him in the chest plate, which hurts _me_ , but the sound should be jarring enough for him to realize I’m serious. “Lyrium is _trash_ , Commander.” I am hissing low, watching around us. “You will lead this army clean, and you will be _amazing_ at it. What have we been talking about when it comes to addictive substances?”

 

He’s glaring at me and I do my best to hold up against the look. Course, my chin is slightly tipped up to keep his eyes. After a few more moments, he sighs and rubs his neck. “The human will is stronger than any potion or chemical.” I beam at him and thump him on the shoulder.

 

“Bingo. So, let’s walk and talk, Commander. I’ve got what, half a bell before my studies?”

 

“Actually, you have nearly three-quarters of a bell.” Ohhhh! That’s where his surprise came from.

 

“No kidding?! Dam-dang! Alright. Well, come on. Walk with me, talk with me. Seems like I never get a chance to just talk with you.” I wave toward the paths out of the training yard toward the wood station and my home. He thinks on it, looking back towards the troops, and his desk. I nudge him gently. “We won’t even be away a full half bell. I promise, no one will mutiny in the meantime.” That little lip curl comes up as he nods, and we set out. “So, talk to me, Commander. Is it the nightmares, the headaches, or just general worry keeping you up? Most the times for me, it’s the worries.”

 

A small scoff is my answer for a moment before he clears his throat. “Worries keep you up at night? You seem of easy mind, Fannon.”

 

I snort softly and lean in to bump him. Stacked bastard doesn’t even misstep. “I worry plenty. I worry that Roderick will come back out in public and start shit, which _I’ve_ seen before. I worry about my kiddos and some of our visitors looking down on them. I worry about those creepy merchants that keep circling the elf servants.”

 

“Yes, I have seen them as well.” Ah, The Commander face; good, he’s on top of that mess. “I’ve posted a few more guards near their sleeping quarters. I have no interest in hearing about someone being harassed or worse. Luckily, they will be leaving for Val Royeaux with the Herald.” He has to shorten his steps so I can keep pace with him. “Though, I would like to personally commend you. I find it quite amazing that you’ve gotten the children to act so open minded. I heard a number of them tell Seggrit to not say ‘knife-ear’ when the man tried to be testy with Severa.” I beam, and maybe pushed my chin up higher to preen.

 

“I never did get why that was a term. If elves did have knives for ears, I’m sure they would have used them against the idiot bigots. Besides, no one is _born_ with hate or prejudices,” Cullen is a dear and holds up a tree limb for me and him. “The only way for a child to know what to like or not like is through the adults around them. Children must be told ‘Hey big ears are bad’ or ‘Dark skinned people are savages.’”

 

The Commander sighs moodily as we walk through the ‘outside of Haven’ gate. “Are we humans meant to segregate ourselves, no matter our country?” I sigh myself, because I definitely understand the frustration of people being prejudice. I shoulderbump him again gently.

 

“Even worse, it doesn’t seem to be just a human thing. Dalish dismiss city elves, and dwarves classify themselves as surface or Orzammar. We just need two groups for everyone, nice and asshole.” I grin again as Cullen has to cover his mouth and nose to silence his laughing.

 

He cleared his throat and looked down at me. Good god, those eyes are beautiful. “Truly, Fannon, I am not sure I will ever be used to your bluntness.” I raspberry him as we finally arrive at the wood station. A number of people, and my sweetie druffalo, are hard at work. I make kissy sounds and squeal happily as Lucy and a new itty bitty baby come over. I pull my mezzo voice out for a moment.

 

_Christmas time is here_

_Happiness and cheer_

 

A number of lows and bellows are my answer from all over the camp. Lucy tries leaning into my stomach while the new baby suckles on my fingers.

 

_Fun for all, that children call,_

_Their favorite time of the year_

 

The working druffalos start pulling harder and a number of the workers wave at me for my tune. Still not sure why it gets such a positive reaction from the furry beasts.

 

“I must admit, I am liking the sound of this ‘Christmas’ your culture celebrates.” He fluffs up Lucy’s back before patting her rump to send her away.

 

“Well, not my whole country. Remember, my country has a multitude of religions and those religions have different holidays. Though I think all have some form of winter holiday. Could I impose on you Commander, to help me gather up some logs for my house?” I don’t even need to puppy eye Cullen as he leads us to the person log chopping stand and pre-chopped logs. I borrow a carrying sleeve and load up as best I can. Cullen, the damn muscle man, carries nearly double my load.

 

“But yours is focused on the ‘son of God’ correct?” Cullen really has a fantastic memory. I have a quick flash to ‘in-game’ Cullen talking with the Herald about how he longed to be a good student.

 

“Yes. Jesus the son of God. The Church roughly copied a previously pagan holiday, celebrated on the first day of winter, and changed the date and made it the day to celebrate Jesus’ birth. Of course, it’s unlikely to _actually_ be his birthday, but some people will fight tooth and nail over it.”

 

“But you call it ‘Christmas’. Shouldn’t it be in his name is some form?”

 

“Ah, but we say his full name was Jesus CHRIST. And while the holiday’s pronunciation isn’t the same, it’s _spelled_ with Christ. I could get into _days'_ worth of arguments of my culture about how the holiday _should_ be celebrated, but-”

 

“Fannon,” Cullen calls from behind me. I whip around in my confusion, seeing him standing at least 5 feet behind me. Why has he stopped there? My door is just 3 feet away-OH DUH!

 

“Ah the ward. Crapsiscles, just a second!” I set all my logs by my door, unlock and swing it open, before running back over to Cullen. I cup his elbow and pull him through the ward. My scalp immediately itches as we both pass through now, stupid magic sensitivity “I keep forgetting I need to escort people in.”

 

“Solas certainly did a fine job of the ward. I would have had more sleepless nights after that attempted assassination if not for it.” He walks into the cabin first as I start to pick up my logs to bring in. I jump as I hear all the logs tumble and rush in.

 

“Cullen?!” And there’s the Commander, hand over eyes, neck red as hell, and it’s obvious he was shielding himself from my still drying lady garments. I double over laughing, pinching my thigh hard to stop any attempts at tea kettle-ness.

 

“I-I’ll just-just be outside.” And so doth the sweetie Chantry boy flee.

 

My own face is red, but I can ignore _my_ embarrassment to enjoy Cullen’s adorableness. In my mind, clean undies aren’t embarrassing. Dirty ones, yes! Seriously though, it’s not fair for such a sweet man to _actually_ exist. I set up all our logs in a fair pile, and do a quick sweep up for all the loose pieces of bark.

 

Stepping outside, Cullen is determined not to look at me. And of course, I have no control over my mouth when it comes to cute things. “You’re so _cuuuuute_.”

 

His head flops forward like he’s exasperated with me.

 

“Sorry, I’m still getting used to this idea that it’s embarrassing for people to even see undergarments. I only get fluffed if they are dirty or _on_ the person. Then again, sweet Chantry boys like _youuuu_ shouldn’t be worried about that.” That gets me a ‘please tell me you are joking’ glare. “Blooming Rooooose?”

 

Cullen slaps both hands on his burning face now, groaning out a soft cry. I pat his shoulder. “Maker's breath, the things you _know_ , Fannon.”

 

“Sooooo,” I prolong the word as I take him by the elbow again and lead him out of the ward. UGHH FULL BODY ITCH! “Did you ever tell Hawke you had a crush on her cousin?”

 

And so doth the Commander power march himself away from me, blooming red all over.

 

“Oh, come on, it was _so_ cute! Young love, Templar and mage. Forbidden but pure.” It turns out that there was more than one Gray Warden recruit. The Queen, Amell, Prince Aeducan, and Mahariel. The Queen was a dual dagger rogue, Aeducan a battle-axe warrior, and Mahariel was a fantastic archer. Amell and Mahariel had died at the battle of Ostagar while Aeducan made a grab for the Dwarven throne while they had been in the Deep Roads. Leliana says he is doing well and generally respectable, but wants no business with either the King or Queen of Ferelden.

 

Cullen whips around on his heel, hands up at chest level in disbelief. “She was my charge. It would have been inappropriate!”

 

“Way I see it, you two were both adults, even by my country’s standards. If she had been interested, and both of you consented, it would have been beautiful. You deserve a special someone, Cullen.” I do my ‘offering hug’ gesture and after several moments of thinking, Cullen gives me a strong but short hug.

 

“Perhaps someday. Of course, with this war, it might be the same day you yourself find yours, Maiden of the Inquis-”

 

“GAHHHHH!!” I flail myself out of the hug, seeing that teasing grin on his pretty face. Teasing-wise Cullen gives as good as he takes. “Who is the God-forsaken-Maker-Creaters’ hell made that my newest nickname?! God, I just want to... GRRRR. Thank the _Lord_ that one just started. Leliana can head that one off.” I blow out a _long_ breath and stare back at the Commander. “Cullen, I believe there is a _good_ chance you could be dating someone during this war.”

 

His eyebrows are up now, and he raises his hand to stroke his chin in pondering. “Have you seen something by chance?”

 

I give a small, chest ‘evil laugh’ before walking past him. “Now, that would be tell~ing~.”

 

I hear a frustrated growl from the blond before he catches up with me. “A moment, Fannon. Explain this ‘dating’. From the wording, I’m assuming it is similar to courting.”

 

We arrive at the training yard now, so I stop and we face each other. The sun bounces off his armor and he’s just _gorgeous_. If not the Herald, I am going to ship him with _someone_. “I’m pretty sure, though picking about the individual differences would need some time-”

 

The bells began ringing, sending both of us to stare into town. Loud horns soon echoed too, which brought loud cheers. “The Herald!” Cullen speaks with a ‘hero worship’ tone. I latch onto his arm before he can go running off to welcome her.

 

“HangonHangon. Hang. ON! Let’s go smarten up first. Order everyone to wash up too. Go!” Cullen runs for the troops as madness starts to descend into Haven. I join the troops in a quick hand wash just as the first of my kiddos arrive. A quick clap-clap, stand straight! has all of them lining up for their own hand washing. All the orphans, and some of the kids with their parents, line up with me on the opposite side of Haven’s main gate.  I beam at Josie, who decides to stand opposite me, clipboard at the ready. I snarl as I see Chancellor Roderick reappear from his ‘true members of the Chantry’ section of tents. Keeping hold of my tiny charges, Elola is bouncing while holding on to my jacket and twins Dai and Del hold my hands, I scan the crowd for Cullen. He’s shouting orders for any troops who wish to see the Herald to line up. I pass Dai’s hand to hold my other pinkie and wave at him. Concerned, he comes over swiftly.

 

“Small Richard is out in public. Be on your guard for trouble. I’ve seen him rile up the mages and Templars before.” His face contorts into rage for a short moment, but nods before continuing to order people.

 

“Ms. Fan, Ms. Fan! Is it really the Herald?!” Elola’s Common is slurring in her excitement. The others are bouncing or squealing or just be being generally rambunctious too.

 

“Clap-clap!” I call out, and the kids immediately go still except for their hands giving me two claps. “Stomp-stomp!” Two hard stomps to the ground. “Stand-straight!” All the kids cup their hands behind their backs and give me their ears. “It looks like the Herald has come back. That means there is a good chance she’s bringing lots of people. She’ll likely have carts and horses with her. You do _not_ leave this line, until I or Commander Cullen says so. Clear?”

 

“Yes, Ms. Fan!”

 

“You may cheer as loud as you want, but no leaving the line.”

 

The horns blow again, but I can _feel_ a rumble through the ground now. My younger ones hold on to their ‘big brother/sisters’ as a parade begins. Me, being the tall woman I am, can see several dozen horses, some of them being ridden, but most drawing carts, taking the lead. The lead rider calls out each cart’s supplies as it passes us, and Josie calls out where they need to go. A number of servants next to her lead the supplies to their places. The ridden horses head straight for the stables we have, and I’m super glad we expanded them.

 

Next is a long, long line of people. Inquisition army soldiers are at the front and back with dots of them on the sides. The people in the middle look to be mostly refugees, though some have taken on the Inquisition green, so new recruits too. Plenty of Chantry red too. I feel tears well up at Dai and Del’s aunt comes running over to their mother, and the tiny toddlers are taken away from me to be a part of the family reunion.

 

At last, they arrive! Good lord I’m going to go deaf from all the shrieks of joy sounding! The Herald and Cassandra ride nearly side by side, though Cassie keeps her horse just a touch back. Herald is riding the original chestnut Ferelden … whatever it’s called, while Cassie has a white and blonde version of the breed. Varric, who is hamming it up with the waving, is riding a spotty pony, who itself is kicking its legs up like a show horse. Solas rides at ease on his calm gray steed and behind them is…

 

“WARDEN BLACKWALL! HI!” And now _I’m_ waving like a loon. He jumps slightly on the back of his also chestnut mount, staring at me. I catch Varric laughing and nearly falling off his horse. Cassie turns back to look at me and I see a smirk on _Hahren_ ’s face. “I’LL TALK TO YOU SOON, WARDEN!! Hey, kiddos say hi to the Warden.”

 

A chorus of ‘Hi Ser/Mister Warden’ follows, and dawwwww I think we just made him blush! With the big players now heading for the stable, I let my kiddos break formation. All are to head to their duties until class. Many pouts are had, but I scoot them along before heading for the stables. I’ve lost sight of Roderick and that worries me.

 

Plenty of people are surrounding the Herald and Cassie, but it looks like Varric, Solas, and Blackwall have been able to dismount without too much of a scene. They are talking to Josie while Leliana and Cullen keep in the Herald’s group.

 

“Anybody for a ‘Welcome back to the cold’ hug?” I call out as I get closer, beaming as Varric opens his arms on sight of me. “Varric, you’re fuzzy!!” I squeal a bit as I notice red scruff covering all of Varric’s jaw. Bits of gray were in the mix, but it looked a few days old!

 

“There you are, Songbird! Get in here. Yeah, got to get rid of it before people start thinking I’m a ‘proper’ dwarf.” I squeeze the crap out of his neck and head, still paying special mind of my bosom. I don’t even mind that I’m making long, happy hums as I squeeze him.

 

“Good lord, have I missed you guys!” I rock us from side to side for a moment, before easing up on the hug, replacing it with a quick kiss to his temple.

 

“See, Hero? Sweet as a toothache. Have you lost a bit of weight there, girly?” Varric grins up at me, giving my lower back a couple of pats. I beam and nod before looking to Solas next, giving Blackwall a free pass to look me over.

 

“ _Aneth ara, hahren. Ar las ma ane son_.” I politely bow my head towards him, and he leans his to me.

 

“Your pronunciation is nearly as good as it is in the Fade, _da’len_.”

 

“Which is to say, not very at all.” I ‘blah’ my tongue out for a second before I give a smaller ‘hug please?’ gesture to Solas. And wouldn’t you know it, he offers me his left side! My gasp of glee stays mostly in my throat as I lean into his side and squeeze his waist. Damn, he’s a brick wall! I keep the hug short and gentle because I’d bet crowns this is a one off. Boo.

 

“So you two really have been speaking elf-like in the Fade?” Varric looks surprised and I raspberry him.

 

“I mentioned that I want to learn everything about Thedas. Languages included. Though my Antivan is nearly as bad as my Elvish. My tongue does not roll right.” I try to disguise my deep breath as I turn to Blackwall finally.

 

Hm, longer hair and right about Solas and my height, but yeah. That’s the Blackwall I remember, and damn is he scared of me. “Hi Warden! Sorry, did me and the kiddos spook you?”

 

“I wouldn’t say ‘spook’, m’lady, just surpr-”

 

“Whoop, hold up. First things first. I am not a Lady, nor a noble of any kind. I’m a teacher by trade, a woman who got sucked out of her home country by accident, and the Sooth-Sayer of the Inquisition by title. I hope they have mentioned the last part. Ms. Dana Fannon, at your service.” I offer my hand, grinning as his face shifts and twists as he takes my rant in.

 

Then he takes my hand and raises it up to kiss it.

 

“EEEE NO NO EEE!!” I bounce myself about five feet out of everyone’s reach. Poor Blackwall is scared, looking to Josie and Solas while Varric looks like he’s going to laugh himself sick. I scrub my hand on my pants frantically and my face is alite.

 

“Ser Fannon! What is wrong?!” Josie moves to my side, lifting my hand. What, did she expect Blackwall bit me?!

 

“Wait, I think I need to explain a cultural thing again!” I’m still bouncing as I move back into the space with everyone. “We don’t really use that gesture anymore. We had the kissing of the hand too, hundreds of years ago. It’s still used in some _really_ high circles and religious things, but for day to day people, it’s… more… romantic.”

 

Cue Josie and Blackwall lighting up just as bad as me and the three of us talking over each other to clear the air. I also gave a little side kick to the _still_ laughing Varric.

 

“Is that still a pretty common gesture in Thedas?” I finally get around to asking as Blackwall gives me a proper handshake.

 

“It is, and any noble or gentleman who greets you _should_ do so.” Josie writes down ‘cultural gesture practice’ on her board.

 

“Ok, so I need to reprogram, uhhhm, adjust, myself. Sorry again Blac-”

 

“Please, Ms. Fannon. It’s nothing to worry about. I’m glad to air this difference early.”

 

“So, while I can’t offer you a ‘Welcome back’ hug, I can offer you a ‘Welcome to’ hug if you wish.”

 

“Thank you, Ms. Fannon,” and we share a quick hug. Holy crap, how many layers does the Marcher have on? Am I just getting my ‘immune to coldness’ back?

 

“So, Songbird, what kind of deep dark secrets does our new Warden buddy have? Candy from baby stealer? Old lady woo-er? Puppy kicker?” Varric rubs his hands together like a supervillain.

 

I look at Blackwall, who’s doing a poker face? back at me as I chew my lip. “Well,... he didn’t _kick_ the puppy.” Blackwall gives a stunned lean back away from me, eyes wide and eyebrows up.

 

“Oh damn, this is going to be good.” Varric even grabs for his journal.

 

“Varric Tethras, you stop that right now,” I wave my finger at his nose. He snorts really hard, but holds both hands up in an ‘I submit’ gesture. “If Blackwall and I talk about those things, that’s _our_ business. Just like my secrets about you are no one else's business. And _on_ the business of my visions, did I call it or did I call it?” My fists hit my hips and I hmmmm? at him.

 

“Now, Songbird, you have to understand. I wasn’t-”

 

A throat clearing sounds from Solas and we both turn to see him flittering a piece of silver over his knuckles. Varric scowls hard and I ‘HA’ laugh once. “How much did you win, _hahren_?”

 

“Two silvers, _da’len_. Master Tethras may attempt to grumble his way out of a bet, but he was still forthcoming with the agreed upon payment.”

 

“That means I have two silvers coming my way as well, do I not?” purrs Leliana as she joins our group. Varric is indeed grumbling like an old Scrooge, but he still plops two silvers into Leliana’s waiting hand.

 

“How much will you win for that bet, Ms. Fannon?” Blackwall questions, and I think I see some relaxation in his stance. I guess me promising out loud to everyone not to blow his secrets is a way to loosen someone up.

 

“Hm? Me? Oh, nothing. I didn’t bet any money. Just bragging point- HEY,” I snap as suddenly Varric grabs my hand and now there’s 5 silvers in it. I shake them back under his nose. “You take those back raite now. I ain’t takin’ yo’r money.”

 

“Too late. Money has changed hands, no back talk. Even if that accent you have when you’re riled up is adorable, Songbird.” Ohhhh, can this dwarf look smug!

 

“Motherf-fudgin’ pus bucket of-a dwarf, I know where you camp!” He just smiles at me. I glare for a few more moments, before sighing _really_ loud and plopping the coins in my purse. “Thank you.”

 

“That’s a good girl.” He pats me on the back again. I kick him on the outside of his boot.

 

Our group is soon joined by the Herald, Cassie, and Cullen. Lord, the Herald looks tired. I try catching Josie’s eye; surely the Herald can get a nap before a war meeting.

 

But of course, now is the time Roderick rears his stupid head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I return! I am very very positive I have enough of a buffer now to get me through May, and I think I have a strong enough foot hold in my Fallout to complete the next chapter soon (omg being stuck sucks) Please enjoy the next month of chapters


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chantry fight! Also secretssssss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since this is alil over a month since Fannon arrived, I'm going to say she's lost around 15 pounds. Dramatic change in diet and daily exercise combating large amounts of squish and a hormonal disorder.

**_ But of course, now is the time Roderick rears his stupid head. _ **

**__ **

**__ **

 

A collection of shouts and insults is starting near the gate, even the clash of leather and metal armor. “Roderick! I’m sure!” And I take off running. Cullen, Cassie, Marina and Solas pass me in moments, but I don’t stop. Especially when I see my little unhallowed mages being manhandled by the Templars from early.

 

“Your kind killed The Most Holy!”

 

“What is the meaning of this?”

 

“Lies. The Templars lost their senses and left her to die!”

 

“Stand down at once!”

 

“Hold still, little mage!”

 

“Ms. Fan!”

 

“ ** _Let go of my babies!_** ” Those in the crowd that knew me jumped at my shout, _and_ as I grab onto the Templar who had Petra and Elola. One thing I’ve learned in watching Cullen, and likely most Templars, is their lack of using joints to their advantage. I was never a martial artist, but I was allowed to watch a Jitsu club for a few semesters. Now, I push the Templar’s bent elbow in, trying to straighten it into the wrong direction. That makes him let go of Elola, who immediately goes to my back and holds on to my jacket. The shock of being disarmed helps me get at his other thumb and pull it back in the wrong direction, freeing Petra. Both held on to my back and I backed the three of us away. Solas moves to stand near me, and he has Marshall and Gwyen at his back, as Cassie, Cullen and Herald got everyone to shut up and listen. Regular civilians are grouping at the top of the stairs, calling out in worry.

 

“Knight-Captain,” pleads the middle-age Templar, like Cullen is going to go with him on the basis of shared jobs. I’m growling, shit; the legit growls that wreck my throat. I can’t see on the mages’ side, but the Templars are looking at my babies and Solas like they are going to Smite them.

 

“That is not my title. _This_ not the Templar Order. _This_ is not a Circle. _We_ are the Inquisition, every one of us! We cannot allow our past to continue to divide us. We are here now!” Cullen snarls at both sides, and the more moderate of the members slink away quietly.

 

“And what is the Inquisition anyway? How does the Inquisition and its ‘Herald’ plan to restore order to Thedas?” Roderick slithers in like the damn snake he is. My growls get worse, but Solas rests a hand on my shoulder. Right, let the big wigs handle the ass. Varric, Blackwall, Josie and Leliana have now joined our huddle. Leliana stays on the outside while everyone else comes into the inner ‘ring’. The still seriously twisted up members on both sides stay where they are, watching the leaders, waiting to see if they should still be followed. Fuck, some of the working moms and dads are watching _me!_

 

“For starters, we are certainly not going to allow a Chancellor to insight a riot!” Cullen snaps at the tiny man and I nod my agreement. The ring is flowing now. Roderick, Cullen, Cassie and Marina now face off in the center. Solas, and I keep our faces to the Templars, Varric and Blackwall face the mages, and Josie comes up behind me to take the kiddos to safety. Mrs. Letcher is coming down the stairs to meet Josie.

 

“Insight a riot? Are you honestly attempting to accuse _me_ of this? On what authority do you make such a claim against a man of the cloth?”

 

“Have you truly forgotten of the Sooth-Sayer of the Inquisition?” My growling stops and I snicker deep in my chest. The new Templars notice my change and are staring at me. I give an overactive wink, which seems to clue most of them in. Solas squeezes my shoulder once more before dropping his hand.

 

“There you go again. Taking conference with a witch!” Whelp, back to growling. “The Maker has never spoken to anyone besides Andraste herself! Yet, your witch claims to know so much about the future. Why did she not use her knowledge to save the Most Holy?” Fucker doesn’t even ask me to my face. “This. This consultation with witches, criminals, apostates, knife-ea-”

 

“ ** _Don’t say knife-ear_** ,” I shout, grinning as all my baby mages shout it too, in my rhythm.

 

“How dare you-”

 

“Enough, Chancellor. What is it that you seek at this time?” Marina butts in, shouldering Cullen aside to stand face to face with dick-head.

 

“I seek to know how you intend to save Thedas, as you have so claimed? You claim to be Andrastian, can’t you see that we need the _proper_ authority to solve this crisis?” I snort a scoff. Idiot’s really going to call Marina on her religious background? Fuck, in the week I knew her, I was damn near sick of her pulling Andraste this, Maker that every other sentence.

 

“And who _is_ the proper authority on giant holes in the sky Chancellor? I assure you, I _have_ not and _will_ not interfere with the election of the next Divine. I am here to find a way to close the sky. To end this war between Mages and Templars. I am trying to bring order and sense where I can.” Marina’s words and aura were upfront and determined, with a touch of hostility. Probably based on the tired look that hung on her face. More of the Templars eased, and I waved at Cassie. I did my best to make a ‘switch me places’ gesture.

 

“Matters of war between the rebels should be left for the new Divine. The Chantry is the power behind both parties.” Cassie quickly moves over to me, leaning in as I whisper to ‘hold here. I’ve got an idea to break this up.’ As I walk over, standing next to the Commander, I play over both what I know of in game and what I’ve seen of small Dick.

 

“So we are to wait, _weeks_ , for some edict that we will then have to _wait_ to be carried out? I was in the Hinterlands. I _saw_ what the rebels were doing! Innocents _slaughtered_ , for simply carrying a stick, stripped of their most precious ownings. Children left _covered_ in their parents’ blood. Then there were the rifts, spitting out demons. Rifts only _I_ have been able to seal.”

 

I leaned in and stage whispered to Cullen, “I don’t get why he’s so antsy about the Chantry’s Election. I thought only _Tevinter_ elected men to be Divine.” And lo, eyes snapped to Roderick, narrowing and glaring. I was just loud enough for the leaders of the mages and Templars to hear me. I still don’t think Roderick would have ever gone after the title himself if he survived Haven. What I do believe is what Mother Giselle said to the Herald. ‘All they need is to doubt’.

 

Roderick blustered and tried to mutter out an argument, saying he had no interest in being Divine, but the seed was sown. Everyone else either nodded to the Herald or Cullen before turning away. Cullen offers his arm, **_blush_** , which I tried to take gracefully and all of the Inquisition left Roderick out in the training yard to fume.

 

Everyone else soon merged before the gate, and Solas leaned in closer. “I was not aware you could be deceptive, _da’len_.” I blush even harder now because that certainly sounds like an amused voice to me.

 

“Well, in my visions of that interaction, Cullen made a comment about ‘random clerics who weren’t important enough to be at the Conclave.’ We have the directive _from_ Justina herself. It has never made sense to me why Roderick pushes at us so hard. And if I can guess right,” I lean around Cullen looking at Marina, who only briefly meets my eyes, “It’s Mother Giselle who told us to just make them doubt.” Marina’s face stays stone-set, but she gives a small nod. I very, very quietly whisper toward Solas, “Someone needs to suggest a nap for Trevelyan.” Solas slows his pace some and I hear him crossing toward Josie.

 

“Ms. Fan!!” I smile and release Cullen’s forearm, opening both of mine up to comfort all my baby mages, despite some of my own mild shivers. Poor little Gwyen, a year younger than Elola, is crying hard and his arm is scratched up from the Templar’s glove. Mrs. Letcher stands behind them rubbing Petra’s back.

 

“It’s ok, bitties. I think we’ve got everything settled for the moment. Now, let’s all take a minute to look at each other. Marshall, how are you sweetie?” Marshall, 13, starts to wipe his nose on his arm, stops, and pulls up his shirt collar to wipe. Not the cleanest option, but the little ones have taken my ‘germs’ lectures to heart.

 

“I’m fine, Ms. Fan,” poor dear’s voice started cracking last week.

 

“Good, Petra?” Elola’s tent mate had a little scratch on her face, but it was one she had gotten yesterday, reopened. I kissed the top of her head and she tried to stop sniffling. Elola was rubbing her arm; seriously? The Templars were roughest with the little ones? “Ok, Marshall, Petra. You two need to use a little bit of your magic on Elola and Gwyen’s arms. Go ahead.” The two older mages nod in determination and open their healing hands over the smaller bitties. Even baby mage healing gets my arms up in goosebumps. More of kids were coming over from the crowd, giving comfort to their classmates.

 

“I am sorry, Ser Fannon,” I turn to find tiny Josie next to me. “But we must take counsel as soon as possible. The Herald and others must be well rested before leaving in the morning.” I know my face is scrunched up in worry as I look back to my kiddos. Aaron, standing next to Elola of course, gives me a very serious nod.

 

“We will make sure everyone is healthy, Ms. Fan.”

 

Dawwww, look at my little gun-ho leader-to-be! “Kiddos, everyone is on the farm today if you aren’t on duty for someone. Mrs. Letcher, could you please watch them? Only Ser Lysette is to be around the little mages.” Everyone confirms my orders and I start walking with Josie. “Oh boy, this is going to be a long meeting.”

 

So sure am I of that fact that I request everyone have a chair and a snack. My doughnuts were devoured quickly. Blackwall got icing crumbs in his beard and Cassie ‘snuck’ a third. Varric sucks off his fingers before putting his gloves back on. “Andraste’s ass, Songbird, I can’t wait to try the other recipes from your country.”

 

I snicker as Cassie and Marina glare at Varric. “You keep up with the blaspheming and you won’t get shit, my good dwarf-Blackwall?!” I half jump out of my chair as the beard man starts hacking, but I can hear that raspy chest laugh behind it. “Ohhhh, they didn’t tell you I had a mouth. Thanks a-fucking-lot, _Varric_.” That gets the rogue and warrior to laugh and all the advisors are smirking. Solas is eating his doughnut like a damn bird.

 

“We have a number of things to talk about before we speak of your visit to Orlais, Herald.” Josie starts off with a list of letters, passing a few over to Varric. After a bit of watching his eyebrows squish and shift, I elbow him gently, questioning with my face. The dwarf looks at me, back at the letter, before turning it in my direction. I notice one grouping of words is bolder than the others so I read that first. I snort once, hard, before grinning.

 

“Hard-in-Hightown three?” I whisper as the serious business of Nobles and information of Haven and The Ashes during the Blight is happening.

 

“ _The Re-punchening_. What kind of title is that?” Varric scoffs while passing me the letters. I grr at them, but _I am_ able to read about 90% of it. I raspberry and pass them back.

 

“Josie will want to use her Antivan contacts. Leliana the Crows. Personally,” I cough to cover my internal squeal as I picture a sassy Zevran after the Kirkwall crew takes on Nuncio. “Personally, I want to keep all the paperwork and paper trails simple. Send a raven to Aveline. Tell her to get the Guard on Worthy, the runecrafter Hawke worked with while she was in the year of probation. He’s mad she took more to Sandal than him. I’d ask to borrow some of Leliana scouts in the matter too, because there’s a good chance he’ll kill someone like in your book and frame you.” Varric freezes for a few seconds, before rolling his eyes back to think.

 

“You sure?” and I have to give him my newly named ‘did you seriously just ask me _that_ about the future?’ face. “Alright, alright. I’ll get on it.”

 

“Tell her I say hi too, please. She was always good to have around. More level-headed than you.” I lean to my side and kiss his crown as he grumbles.

 

“Keep it up, Songbird.” Varric pulls out his notebook and my pen. I notice it running low and quickly swipe it, “Hey!” and pass him a fuller one.

 

I notice Blackwall looking at us confused, so I lean to the other side and whisper, “My visions go back to before the last Blight. In a way, I traveled with _The_ Wardens and The Champion of Kirkwall. I wasn’t here physically until a little over a month ago.” He sits there digesting the information, but I’m distracted enough to jump (still?!) when Josie calls my attention.

 

“Ser Fannon, I was hoping for your information about sending our scouts to the Storm Coast.” Josie asks and I do my best, HA!, to control my ick face.

 

“Whatever you send them with for rain protection, triple it. That place has never not been wet when I saw it. Also, there is a group there, calling themselves the Blades of... Hersa, no,” I snap my fingers; it really was on the tip of my tongue. “Who was the Tevinter that ordered Andraste’s ex-”

 

“The Blades of Hessarian?!” Cassie is a little shocked, but I snap and point my confirmation.

 

“That’s the people. Have anyone going to the Coast be careful. The Blades will get territorial and will _not_ take prisoners. The caves have _stupidly_ large spiders, some of those wormy neck darkspawn, and in terms of supplies, I remember seeing lots of Black and Blood Lotus, iron and serp...ohh, it’s this pretty green mineral.”

 

“That sounds like Serpentstone. A fairly rare material in Ferelden,” Cullen comments, tapping one of his own map pieces over to the area.

 

“A few samples of Serpentstone and a few hides of those wormy darkspawn should be kept at the main camp. If the Blades do cause trouble, someone,” I do a head lean to Trevelyan, who is _not_ amused, “can use the material to create some kind of necklace. Wear that to challenge the leader. The group of the Blades overall aren’t _bad_ , but the leader is a sleaze. They are honor bound to follow and do as the leader commands. Also, the leader cheats and sets mabari on any challengers.” I sip on my watered-down fruit juice as I watch them make notes.

 

“I believe that covers everything else at the moment. How were the Hinterlands? Cassandra? Lady Herald?” Cullen asks, though, is it my imagination or did he do a double take at Trevelyan? My shipping senses are _tingling_.

 

Cassandra fans out the map we had drawn out and I grin at the large number of ‘cleared’ X’s inside my circles. I also notice that the far South, with the bandits and that one Fortress, are un-X-ed, and so is that far East side of the Hinterlands. So they didn’t find the original Solas globe, but they did find the one in the Farmlands and the one with the nutty Sky cultists. Damn, Hinterlands must be even bigger in real life.

 

Real life... sighhhhh.

 

“We found nearly everything to be correct as Fannon explained. You missed a few details though, Fannon.” I instantly duck my head down to my shoulders. “We ran into numerous mountain cats and far more bears than you mentioned.” She’s not really... _accusing_ me. I stand up and flitter my fingers of the spots.

 

“Really? I’ve only heard of big cats in the North, and never heard of mountain lions in the Hinterlands-oh, sorry. That’s one of the names we have for the big, tan cats. Mountain lions, pumas, cougars. In terms of bears, that doesn’t really surprise me, especially in this,” I point to the southern direction under the horsemaster’s farm, “area. Did you come across those disappearing rogues around the bears?”

 

“They don’t really _disappear_ , like you’ve seen, Songbird. It’s pretty easy to mix up a bottle for a smokescreen and open it up. Big enough bottle, cover a big area, attack from inside the smoke. And yeah, we ran into a lot of those bastards.” Varric offered from his note writing.

 

“Friggin’ assholes,” I hear another raspy laugh from Blackwall, but also a rather dramatic sigh from Trevelyan. Overactive brain, and low esteem, tell me I am not liked by her. Hopefully I’m wrong. She does seem _really_ tired. “But mostly everything else is as I said?”

 

“Indeed, your warnings were helpful.” Solas remarks softly, and I notice Marina’s lip curling slightly. _Realllllllly_ hoping I’m wrong. “Now, we must turn our sights to Orlais, however.”

 

“I look forward to hearing this,” Marina remarks and I can’t read her tone. Leliana saves the day by drawing out a number of maps from different parts of the table.

 

“The Herald and others will be leaving in the morning, traveling down the river, into Lake Calenhad. From there, they will board a larger ship and move to Orlais. If the weather stays fair, likely for mid-Guardian, they will arrive the day before the meeting with the Chantry. If not, they will likely arrive the morning of.” Leliana looks at my confused face.

 

“Guardian is the second month of the year, right?”

 

“Indeed. Do you see the ship having any problem arriving, Fannon?”

 

“Well, to be honest, I never saw _how_ we got to Orlais. It seemed, however, that we got there the day of. Hopefully I’m wrong.” I offered as I pulled little copies of notes the advisors had sent out to Orlais. “Before we get started on the details, please know that I have already asked for plans to be in place in Orlais that change what I have seen. I’m pretty sure they’ll be for the better.” I give the copies to Cassie and Marina before pulling the Market map to me. It had been hard as hell to describe where I had seen the meeting taking place because the market was actually massive. The biggest clue had been the lion statues that I remember.

 

“There’s at least three people you need to meet in person while there. The first is Sera. She’s an elven archer, nimble little thing, who cusses as much as I do. Her big selling point is she is _a_ Red Jenny.” Everyone’s heads come up from their notes at that name drop. “Red Jenny is actually an organization, not a single person. They are people who look out for those mistreated by the nobility. Her information will be useful at times, though I think it’s her shots that are most useful. Sorry~, Bianca.” I beam as Varric scowls at me, whipping Bianca into his arms to ‘soothe’ her. “She asks to join because she herself is very Andrastian. Not a big fan of the _Chantry_ as a whole, but she’s devout. The scouts we have in the city have been spreading rumors of your arrival and your acts of helping ‘the little people’. She should be along the roofs of the buildings in the market; I’ve always seen an arrow being shot at your feet to get your attention. Choppy blonde hair, weird ass color patterns, _bad_ grammar. UGH! I’m going to make her sit down in my classes.” I make a mental note that Trevelyan might just have resting bitch face, cause she’s has not stopped _sneering_.

 

“The next is Lady McSmugbutt- I mean Lady Vivienne, Enchanter to the Imperial Court of Olaris, Madame de Fer, Mistress of Duke Ghislain and all the other names she has. Now, do not let _my_ reaction to her dissuade anyone. She and I share _very_ different personalities. I will keep my distance from her, but that’s _me_. She is what we need to charm the Orlesian nobles. She’s also a stellar mage, whom I’ve normally seen using ice powers, counter to Solas’ lightning and spiritual magic. The rumors we spread for _her_ are about Lady Trevelyan’s nobility and the fact that she’ll be in the market _in_ person.” Ok, less snarls? Nobility match up thing?

 

“Lastly is the mercenary captain, The Iron Bull. He and his crew are the biggest change because you didn’t meet them in Orlais in my visions. We sent a message to him directly to meet you in Orlais. He _was_ going to send his Lieutenant to us, some time after meeting the Chantry, to go to the Storm Coast to see how he and his boys work. Main thing about him, for _now_ , is that he is a big-ass Qunari with a love for very bad puns. Varric, completely flipped from _either_ of the Arishoks you’ve met. He’ll challenge you to a drinking match.” I pause as Varric snickers at the idea. “Word of advice, ask him straight up about what his other job is. And no, I’m not going into details of _why_ I say that. Do so in private though.” So does Trevelyan just not like hirelings?... Fuck, is that even a word? Seriously, give this woman a cookie.

 

“Now, everyone is wondering why I asked to make all these changes, and extra notes, and what not, yes? Because an armed force will be there at the meeting too. I have never seen us coming to blows with the force... but we need to do so-Hang on!!!” I wave my hands frantically to try to pacify everyone as they immediately tense and look to argue with me.

 

“What I’m about to explain is all information we would find out _later_. This is not coming out of my tush.” I sigh and rub my hands on the table, taking a deep breath, and staring down a very upset looking Cassie. The warrior’s face turned to surprise for a moment. “Cassandra, what I’m about to talk about will throw a lot of what _you_ know and believe into the air. I do _not_ say this lightly. Please believe that.” The Seeker stares at me for a long time. I see everyone looking between us. Whatever still ate at Cassandra about me, though far better, made her hesitate with everything I said. Finally, she nodded and moved closer to the table.

 

“An Envy demon is the leader of the force that will arrive in Orlais.” I give everyone a moment to take in that information. Envy demons were rare, Cullen exclaimed. They are extremely cunning added Cassandra. Josie and Varric are writing down everything while Blackwall and Trevelyan talk about that that could mean in a fight. Leliana knocks on the table to pull everyone’s attention back to me. I focus on the table. “Envy has taken the form of someone you know of Cassandra, though not closely. It will be _your_ call to expose him or not.” I turn to Trevelyan now, leaving Cassie to her thoughts. “If you guys do decide to do whatever it is Seekers and Templars do to make demons expose themselves, you’ll need to draw attention onto yourself, Lady Herald.” She raises her eyebrows at me, kinda stiff in her shoulders. “Envy, if left alone, will start thinking about you and the fame you and the Inquisition are starting to gain. Envy is envy, jealous of someone more powerful, skilled, or more popular than its current form. The force will arrive at the meeting, strike the Chantry’s speaker in the head, and condemn you and everyone at the meeting. This is the moment Cassandra will have to make her call, but as you arrive in the market, bring _some_ attention to yourself. Introduce yourself to those you pass. ‘Hello, I am with the Inquisition.’ For one, that will likely get the three I mentioned before’s attention, besides Envy’s.” I look to Leliana now. “We have scouts with escape routes planned, so you guys have to keep Envy contained in a small area if you can. With Blackwall with you, it will be a better fight, and Bull, Vivienne, and Sera are decent people. They are not going to leave with unarmed civilians present. Keep to Bull’s right side; his left eye is gone. I mentioned Vivienne’s ice and Sera’s arrows…” I start pulling on my fingers, trying to count if I missed anything.

 

“And if we leave the Envy demon be for now?” Cassandra asks, and I grimace, chewing on my thumb.

 

“That… depends. I can’t mention _what_ it depends _on_ , but I can tell you we will eventually find Envy’s host. The person is alive and well… and working with the one who destroyed the Conclave.” Oh, that sent tempers a-flaring, and from the hard nose breath Cassie does, I think that just cemented her decision.

 

“Once the meeting is done, no matter what way you guys decide to go, invite the three back to your lodgings. I made each of them Welcome to the Inquisition presents. They are already packed.”

 

“That is if I deem them as worthy as you make them sound. We are dramatically changing the course of your _visions;_ are we sure this is the best course?” Marina… snips? It’s a really quick syllable tone. She looks to the advisors at her question, which leaves me to squirm. _Jesús_ of mercy, get the damn woman a nap _and_ cookie!

 

“We have been aware that there was to be a force coming to Orlais for sometime.” Josie offers gently, tipping an edge of her clipboard in my direction. “We have taken as many precautions as we can with the information provided. It is just a matter of reading the situation and deciding if it is the best course at the time.”

 

“Despite Fannon trying to be as tight lipped as possible,” Leliana started, and I puff up in frustration. Damnit, what did she get out of me? “We know who the force is. An Envy demon at the head of the force would be extremely powerful.”

 

“So, who is it?” Trevelyan waited, arms crossing while her body shift in a moment to one foot.

 

Leliana levels a look at me for a long time. _For once_ , I am determined to meet it. _Don’t tell ‘em, Leliana_ , I hopefully send in mental waves.

 

“I think it would be best if you know when you encounter them. This decision will largely land on Cassandra and her abilities.” _HOLY FUCK, DID MY MENTAL MESSAGE WORK?!_

 

I take my seat now and let everyone else talk, noting Trevelyan’s continued unhappiness in dealing with the demon. Leliana takes over from here, confirming all my input about the scouts and escape routes. They also talk about things we need to purchase while the crew is in the Capital. Oh shit, that reminds me, “Make sure Solas has time to get his cakes!” Everyone stares at my interruption, before turning to Solas.

 

The elf coughs into his fist. “I believe she is referring to a pastry I am fond of. It is a small stand near the west side of the market. I do not ask for any extra time in retrieving them.”

 

“Nope, cause I just did it for you. Oh, and on that train of thought,” I stand up and grab onto Blackwall’s arm, trying to hoist the startled man out of his chair.

 

“How are cakes and Ser Blackwall _anywhere_ in the same thought?!” Cullen is floored, and as usual, the one to voice the confusion on everyone’s faces.

 

“Oh, because he and Solas have this conversation about seeing Orlais in the Fade, in which Solas mentions his cakes.... Also, remember~, brain isn’t on right. Come along, Warden. We won’t be away long.” I tug again and he relents after looking to everyone else.

 

“Not to worry, Hero. Songbird is harmless.” Varric calls after us as I escort Thom away.

 

Outside the Chantry, I release Blackwall’s arm and address him directly. “You really don’t have to worry about me, though I won’t feel bad if you do. We are going to take a walk to the lake, to a spot I like to relax at. Nice and quiet, but first,” I throw up the rocker hand gesture into the air and wave it three times to the right. Vanril and Feyriel, in normal citizen garb, appear from the left tree line and next to the quartermaster, along with a third scout from my farm that I didn’t realize I had.

 

“Oh, you are new!” The man gives a little smirk, before bowing just a touch. They each take an at rest stance. “Everyone, this is Warden Blackwall, one of the newest members of the Inquisition. I need to speak with him in private. I know this will make your job difficult, but I _need_ the confidentiality. New guyyyy,” I edge ‘cause I need a nameeee.

 

“Quill, Sooth-Sayer,” he offers, and I notice the Orlesian tilt.

 

“For right now, you’ll be the closest to us, but I still need you out of hearing range. Clear?” The three nod, and I loop my forearm back around Blackwall’s and start walking. “Those are my guards, if you are wondering. Apparently, I’ve had a few assassination attempts against me. No one has told me how many, though.” We escort each other past my kiddos, who all chorus out ‘Hi Ms. Fan, hi Ser Warden’. Blackwall was getting lots of waves and hellos from the townspeople as we walked out, making the poor man blush a bit under all that hair.

 

We go around to the far left side of the lake, one with shit tons of rocks that no one can climb over quickly. I shoo Blackwall’s attempts at helping me and we finally settle down. I pull up my knees, rest my elbows on them, and most of the way cover my mouth. I have no idea if my guards can read lips.

 

“Let’s start with the one I’m sure you are panicking about, eh Thom?” I notice him instantly freeze. Shaking, fast breaths, eyes snapping all around us; the classic signs of panic. I pull out a journal to doodle in. Life threatening secrets normally take time to-

 

“They weren’t exaggerating then.” I eep and look over at him. He jumped when I did, looking me up and down like I’ve lost my mind. Good lord, I get that look alot, huh?

 

“Well, you are taking this far better than I thought. Huh... well… let’s see... crap I’ve got nothing. Questions?” I pat his shoulder friendly, backing off immediately as he tenses, before leaning my face into my palm.

 

“You… aren’t going to tell the others?” Dawww, he’s got sad puppy eyes. They don’t really work with all that hair though.

 

“Nope. Your secrets are yours. And because I’m sure you’ll ask while we are out here, my opinion on _why_ you left Thom behind and took on Blackwall? I’m honestly not sure. Where in the chain of command should blame be laid? Gaspard? The one who ordered Rainier? You?” I stretch out my legs, flexing my neck as I think. “I guess Gaspard never _ordered_ an attack, though he would have been the one to benefit the most. You were just a sword pointed at Callier… then again, you used your men in the same way… course if had just been Callier, you and the others would be seen as Heroes for Gaspard…” I tap my boots together, still thinking.

 

“Please, my lady…” I look over and see that my out loud musing is really stressing him out. I sit right again and pat the rocks by him, trying to show comfort in another fashion.

 

“Listen… let’s go with I _won’t_. In this case, it’s not my place to judge you. I am a Libra, I see every side of an argument. The strong and weak points of all pieces of the evidence. What I _do_ know, is that your ‘status’ as a Warden will help us. More importantly, your sword and shield will also help. You took on Blackwall’s name to try to help others, right? This is a _good_ chance to do so. Tell me something, do you regret _it_?”

 

“Every minute of my life.” He’s looking down at his clenched hands.

 

“That is a sign that you aren’t a monster. You regret, you grieve. You want to do better. It’s a heavy sin to bear, and if you _ever_ try to forget it, I’ll have to remind you. You did what you did, Thom. You can’t undo it. The only thing you can do is work your damnedest to help others. Will it make up for it?...” I shrug. “But at least you aren’t like your Commander. He was a coward, killing himself rather than facing the music or trying to do better. Life is far more complicated than a yes or no, huh?”

 

The man chuckles a sad laugh before we stare out into the thinning lake. I see the row of boats the Herald and others will be taking in the morning. Guards are posted while people load them up.

 

“I have… other questions, my-Ms. Fannon.” Blackwall asks after a bit. I grin and wave him ahead.

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fannon isn't liked by everyone, Cullen is in pain, and Dana has a habit of thinking wayyyyyy too much.

**_ “I have… other questions, my-Ms. Fannon.” Blackwall asks after a bit. I grin and wave him ahead. _ **

 

 

 

We are walking back, after about an hour of questions; he’s still verrrrry nervous of me. I am explaining the idea of ‘Strange Shit from Dana’s country’ when we run into Solas and Varric. “You two get it all out of your systems?” The freshly shaved dwarf asks. I mayyyy reach over, wiggling my finger in asking to pet his face. He winks and gives me his right cheek. Varric, I luv youuuu. Temple smoochies.

 

“Pretty much,” I look back at the Marcher and wave him a little ahead of me. “I was about to show him to the tavern before sending him to the quartermaster for somewhere to sleep. How did the rest of the meeting go?”

 

“Lady Seeker has taken your recommendation to heart and has decided to act upon it. Leliana and the Lady Ambassador continued going over the number of plans and lists in place to ensure that we are best prepared.” Solas answered before Varric jumped in to tease.

 

“Curly just stood there gaping after you two left and we sent fish for some freshening up. Last I heard, she’s getting a bath and food in her cabin. She doesn’t like to eat with a group, says it gives her indigestion.”

 

“I hope she gets in a nap, too. She looked so tire-”

 

“OY!” I jump, the guys don’t, and we turn to the voice. It’s one of the creepers who have been hanging around the elf servant quarters. Still need to get on Josie about that little segregation.

 

“Yous that harlet goin’ on abo’t not saying knife-ear, right?” I narrow my eyes at the brute blond with his hand on a bottle and a wobble in his steps.

 

Varric quickly takes me at the elbow and pulls me behind him slowly. Blackwall also moves in a bit. Solas is as cool as a cucumber.

 

“Have a good evening there, my friend.” Varric calls out, nudging me along.

 

“Round bitch like h’r needs it from real men, not some bald rabbit! Her’ rabbit, got some shoes for you ta shine!” I feel my body going into the flight/fight/cry stage, looking to Solas as he’s insulted. He’s looking at me, like he knows I’m more upset about him being insulted. Course this is also the first time in my _life_ someone’s called me a slut, but Solas just got back, damnit.

 

“That’s no way to speak to a lady! I suggest you sleep off that drink, Ser.” Blackwall’s hand swepts me further away, almost into Solas’ arms, as he and Varric put themselves in front. My eyes scan around, and I whine as I realize we are drawing a crowd. I hear a soft ‘shh’ from Solas as he touches my upper arm to give me contact.

 

“That ain’t no lady! ‘Mayden of the Inwasition’ my arse! That bitch been fuckin’ that rabbit and dirt chewer since ‘fore they left, way I hea’d it. Been off with her yerself, huh? She got an’thing left down there? She’s been fuckin’ _all_ the rabbits. Got the guards up to keepin’ me and my fellows away from the others, want ‘em all to her whore self.” He swigs his bottle and I stare blurry eyed down at my feet. Fuck, this is why I _never_ went to parties at home. Too damn scared of drunks. Solas’ hand goes from touching to holding with his index finger rubbing gently.

 

“Go to sleep, you drunk idiot.” Varric scoffs and snaps his fingers. Both he and Blackwall give the drunkard their backs.

 

“Come, _da’len_. Let us continue Warden Blackwall’s tour. You were showing him the tavern next, correct?” Solas’ voice tries to soothe and I shuffle along next to him as close as possible without touching him.

 

Right up until a sharp pain cracks the back of my head.

 

I yell/gasp out and cover the spot, hearing something click on the ground. Voices erupt as I look back and see a sizeable rock now covered in dots of red. Pulling my hand away from my hair, I see blood spreading on my finger tips. The… fucker… beaned me with a rock?! My temper flails hotter than even my _nausea_ as I wheel back toward him.

 

“ _What are you, fucking five?!_ ” My frantic shout rings out over the other voices as I stared wide eyed at the drunk. “Who the fuck throws a rock? Five year olds throw rocks! Little pissy, spoiled kids whose mommies didn’t give them what they want.” I guess I’m moving towards him because Varric’s got his shoulder into my guts again. Solas has his hand in my hair this time, though, so Blackwall’s got me by the upper arm. “Everyone watching, does a grown man throw rocks when someone disagrees with him?!” I swear I hear snickering around and the drunk looks frozen. “I mean for God’s sake! You just admitted you and your mates plan to basically rape people. Where’s Cullen?! I want to see the Commander right now! Your ass is going in a cell! No one is your fucking toy!! Ah, damnit Solas, _that’s cold!_ ”

 

Several of the people surrounding us seem to agree with me as they rush the man and pin him. More shouts ring out, making me even more painfully deaf with the blood pounding in my ears, for guards.

 

Somehow, between me trying to dance out of Solas’ healing hand and people running around to get help, the guys get us all inside the tavern. I’m hissing because of the cold and my, likely, spiking blood pressure, so I don’t hear who gives out what order for food and drink.  I slowly come to realize we are at one of the larger tables and Solas is the only one holding me at the moment.

 

“You are safe now, Fannon. Be calm.” His voice has an extra stern layer to it, so I convince my body to hold still, even if I whine out.

 

“It’s not a bad cut, is it, Chuckles?” Varric is settling my normal tankard of water on the table, and a small bottle of wine. Blackwall’s got plates of my new soft-shell tacos, setting the different toppings down the middle. Flissa, obviously worried, sets down several more tankards and I smell some heavy shit being drunk at this tim-

 

“Coldddd!” I whine again just as Solas lets go of me.

 

“No, though head injuries are known to bleed heavily.” I reach up to rub the spot, only for Flissa to smack my hand away as she leaves.

 

“Maker, what an as-hm.” Blackwall starts as he takes his seat across from Solas. Varric has pulled his chair more to the head of the table, trying to half sit by me.

 

“What a flaming dipshit! Seriously, who throws a rock?!” I reach up again, wincing as a I hear a stern ‘No’ from Solas. I wrap my hands around my tankard, sipping. “For that matter, who thinks like that?! Keep him and his fellows away from them, did he even hear himself?! Sounds like-like...”

 

“It sounds like the man expects all elves to be at his disposal to use at any time and in any way he deems fit?” Solas adds coolly, with just a slight nose curling, like this is a normal everyday thing.

 

“FUCK THAT!” I jump up and would have run out the door to shout at the man some more if three sets of hands didn’t grab me.

 

“Wonder when it will happen this time?” Varric quietly asks to the air as far as I can tell.

 

“Be still, Fannon. The townspeople heard his words too, along with your demands for the Commander. Whatever they may think of the situation personally, they were witness to an attack against a respected member of the Inquisition. They will heed you and summon Cullen.” Solas calmly, but firmly, pulls me back into my chair, while Varric makes it a point to put my water in my hands.

 

I sit there and grumble against the lip of my water for a bit longer. Fucking racists. No, fuck that. Fucking wanna-be rapists. Just like those two guards who had been molesting Trevelyan at the beginning. OHHHH, I needed to check with Cullen on them, too. Fuck my head still throbs like…

 

Holy shit, I just got hit with a rock… that man had wanted to hurt me… deliberately… fuck, I was bleeding like a stuck ...

 

“CATCH HER!” I hear Varric call out as my vision spins, hands once again grabbing onto me. Dizzy. Hot.

 

“Lay her head on the table gently.”

 

“Hey, Flissa sweetheart, got any ice? Wrap some up in a towel for me.”

 

“What’s wrong with her? I thought you said it wasn’t bad.”

 

“Fannon has a tendency to react with her emotions first. After some time, her logic surfaces, and she can view her actions under the first state. As a non-combative personality, the fact that she previously shouted or argued frightens her.” I hear Solas telling… was that Blackwall? Ughhh my head.

 

“Wasn’t this bad last time, though. She just had a really bad case of the shakes. Time before that was definitely worse.” Varric confirms just as fresh cold is set on my lower neck. I groan in complaint, but at least the cold doesn't touch my skin directly.

 

A broad hand rubs between my shoulder blades, just as the tavern door slams open and heavy boots stomp in.

 

“By the Maker, did he touch her?!” Oh sexy voice… wait, Cullen? A chair is moved and the hand on my back is replaced with an even larger one. “Ser Fannon?” I open my eyes to see a pair of very worried gold ones, still surrounded in bruised purple. I give a confused sound and the hand continues the rubbing.

 

“No, though the ruddy bastard threw a rock at her head. Solas had her healing while she lectured him.” Blackwall again, but I just watch Cullen as he pulls back my eyes, before peeling off a glove and taking my wrist pulse. The dizziness is starting to go away.

 

“I’m certainly not allowing that barbarin and his cohorts on the same ship as you tomorrow. They’ll all spend at least three days in cells, drying out for once. Fannon, tell me, what were you and I discussing this morning?” Cullen’s hand stays on my back as I lift my head up, rubbing my forehead. The ice somehow stays in place, though I think I feel another hand’s weight.

 

“We, oh Jesus, I’m all wobbly. We went walking to the wood stand. You helped me take some logs home, and we talked about Christmas.” I start rubbing my temples now. “You’re going to lock him up, right Commander?”

 

“Of that, I assure you. His associates as well. I’ve learned that they made another move against the servants, Severa and two young girls, while the rest of us welcomed back the Herald. The women are injured, but whole.” Cullen pats my hand, since I feel my face contort in worry. “As long as you’re alright, and in safe company, I need to get the town back under control. No training later and I think it would be best to keep the children on your farm today.” Cullen stood and nodded to the others before heading out.

 

“Fucking-”

 

“No, Fannon. You must remain calm. You are still in a fragile state.” Solas lectures and I let my head rest back down.

 

Things edge back to normal fairly easily. Blackwall and Varric want my input on how to eat tacos, and after a few more minutes, I’m able to get down one myself. Cassandra stops by to check on us, hearing about the confrontation, and I just sit back and listen to the inner circle chat. Can’t keep track of too much, what with Varric getting Cassandra’s dander up every two seconds. I decide to report in to Leliana directly after my head stops spinning completely.

 

Leliana gives me a thorough going over, from the time I left with Blackwall, though I _refuse_ to give details, up to just before my arrival. Leliana throws up the rocker gesture too, and all my guards appear and salute. Turns out Feyriel had been up _on_ the tavern, arrow trained on the drunk and would have killed him if he had thrown anything but the rock. I thank the three, though all look upset that I was injured on their watch.

 

Making my way to the farm, I am damn nearly covered in hugs and many pouts as I formally cancel classes for the day. We all, instead, continue our farm work. More soil is turned over by the oldest kiddos, the middle age kids start fresh rows of wheat and barley from the new supplies, and everyone helps the tiniest ones hold their water cans over the rows. Mages, my babies and many of the older ones, run their magic over the rows to give them a good start. I always step well away when they do; growing magic makes me tickle all over.

 

It’s closing in on evening when I notice another disturbing trend for today. The Templars are watching us, even non-magic us. I toss my gloves in my purse as I move to address them. The four of them look between each other before the eldest, the same who had addressed Cullen early, steps forward to meet me.

 

“Introductions first, please,” I ask, making the man stop mid opening of his mouth. “I am Ser or Ms. Dana Fannon, Sooth-Sayer of the Inquisition. I am not a witch, nor a mage of any kind. I am a teacher. Those behind me are mostly my students, _including_ the baby mages you lot _bruised_. If this conversation is going to be about how mages are dangerous and need to be contained or the Chantry is right about magic not ruling over man, you gentlemen can hightail your tushes to the Commander again. I won’t agree.”

 

The middle-aged man swallows for a second, before bowing before me. “Ser Rooso Mortin, m’lady.” For once, I don’t feel like correcting anyone. “We’ve, well, we’ve come to ask how you have been able to keep your unharrowed mages from being possessed.”

 

I tsk and cross my arms. Noises behind me tell me my kiddos are scattering to their safe places, while Aaron is helping Mrs. Letcher with the babies. “One, they are not my _mages_. They are my students, my kiddos, my babies. They are treated like all my other kids. They get their lessons, help with chores, and are expected to behave or they have playtime taken away. In terms of the ones _you lot_ are worried about, Ser Lysette is posted daily on my farm for my first class. Today is a strange day, with the Herald returning. Our schedules are mixed up at the moment and she is not able to be here. I’m not scared though. If there’s only one thing the Circle got wrong is that they didn’t trust mages to be themselves. My kids are like any other kid and they want things like any other. By treating them like… damn real people, they aren’t interested in making deals with demons. None of mine long for the power to stop someone from beating them, or _worse_ , and don’t any of you say that doesn’t happen! I watched Kirkwall; there were no true innocents on either side of the argument. If you want to understand why some mages go bad, talk to the ones that don’t.” I open my stance and gesture to my babies. “You may speak with my students and my other helper mages if you want, but I expect proper manners and decency if you do.”

 

Two of the Templars, younger than Mortin, look interested. Mortin himself looks very conflicted. The last looks about ready to charge forward again. “Be. Warned.” I let myself enunciate the next words carefully. “I am the teacher of Haven. _All_ children who wish to learn are under my guidance. I am also the Sooth-Sayer of the Inquisition. I am an advisor. If I believe any of you wish to afoul my children, mage or otherwise, I will report you.” I turn and walk back into my farm. Three of them follow, but a fourth set of boots spooks me. Turns out, Blackwall was nearby at the quartermaster. “Hello, Warden.”

 

“Ms. Fannon.” And that’s all that’s said as the four men spread out. The three Templars respect my warning and stay with me, trying to interact with my babies. Elola and Gweyn play nice, answering and asking questions, but the others, especially Marshall, keep their distance. They instead clamor to Blackwall, who stays within easy ‘stopping a fight’ reach. God, I wish I could take pictures. He’s hunched over in the dirt with a 2 and 5 year old fighting to climb on his back while my tiny Lari, Sereva’s wee thing I babysit so much, is trying to beat up his outermost coat that he took off.

 

Dark completely settles in at 5:15 and I ask Blackwall politely to take the kiddos to the main dinner tent, since it’s on his way to his overnight room. I, on the other hand, am _drained_. Fuck, it’s been easy to ignore the ‘assassination’ attempts; I only _know_ of the one, and I thanked Cullen a billion times after I woke up. I can’t escape this line of thinking that I’ve always had. ‘No one notices you because you aren’t worth noting’. Why would anyone notice me in a world, well world _s_ , of far more interesting people? Some part of my brain _is_ trying to compute that the people are starting to know me, but it’s not coming easily.

 

Then there’s the idea of hurting me. Why? What did I do? It just... WHAT? I ugh as I make my way down through town and nearly bump into Marina. “Ah, evening, Herald. Off to dinner?”

 

“Evening, Fannon.” She yawns delicately behind her hand. “No, prayers with Cassandra. Has everything been well?”

 

“A bit of a tiff with some drunk merchants and the elf servants. One of the idiots even pelted me with a rock.” Her eyebrow goes up in disbelief so I gesture to the back of my head. “Tinged me good, but Solas took care of it. I’m going to head to my cabin. It’s been an off kilter day. Enjoy your evening, Lady Herald.” I wave as I turn to leave.

 

Of course, the day isn’t done with its strangeness as I pass the training yard. My hand flies to my heart as I see Cullen manhandling the earlier prissy Templar nearly off of his feet before throwing/pushing him away. _DAYMN!_

 

“I won’t hear another word on the subject. The mages have been under Ser Fannon’s guidance long before you arrived. None under her care have fallen to possession. It may be their age, but I do not see any reason to change that. I will not assign any of you to watch her or them. You will be assigned to where I see you having the most use. Now _leave!_ ” And if _I_ had been that Templar, I would have pissed my britches at the deadly anger coming from that rigid tone. The Templar brushed himself down, but has the good grace to leave without doing any chest thumping. Cullen turned and went into his spacious tent quickly.

 

Ugh, Cullen’s been having as crappy and weird ass day as I have, but he’s done it on no sleep. I move forward, unsure at the moment of what I can say to give support, but knowing I want to.

 

As I run the back of my hand up to push the tent’s flap away, I am greeted with a painful sight. Cullen, body stiff, but with shaking in his arms and knees, is gritting his teeth and clenching his eyes closed. He looks to be in tremendous pain. Pulsing veins line the side of his neck and his temple, and sweating is coming off of him in rivers. Fucking lyrium!

 

Keeping my voice soft and low, I call to him. “Cullen.”

 

He hisses and moves to look at me, trying to as I watch his pupils fluctuate. “Ser Fannon… now might not be-”

 

I step in fully and turn around to tie the tent flaps shut. My cloak is off quickly as I turn back to him. “Easy, Cullen. I’m not here to ask for anything. Let me help.” Both cloak and purse are set on the nearby seat. “Let’s start with getting your armor off.”

 

“It’s nothing, Ser Fannon. Just a small headache.”

 

I rest my hand on his forearm and continue in my gentle tone. “It's not a small headache, Cullen. You’re covered in sweat. Let’s get you sorted.” I keep a hold of his arm while pinching at the fingers of his glove to pull at it.

 

“It’s fine. There is work I need to-”

 

“Cullen, please look at me,” Fuck, it looks painful for him to even turn his head slightly. “I’m here to help. You know that I have a pretty good idea of what’s happening. I won’t think _any_ less of you for enduring this detox so well. Here, we’ll just take everything slow.” The gloves come off first, followed by the forearm armor. I roll up the red tunic part way before pulling it off one arm at a time and taking the fluffy mantle/tunic and setting it on his inside chair. His chest piece and shoulder armor are de-strapped and placed on the mini indoor table. His hands palm the furniture as I kneel down and get his legs off. Boots, pants, and belt stay strapped on.

 

“Alright, this is going to sound strange, but I need you to sit on the ground. We’re still going slow.” One knee down, then the other before sitting cross legged. He hunches over, arms in his lap, and breathes through his teeth for a few moments. I grab hold of his cot’s blanket and throw it over his shoulders. “Alright, next strange thing. I need you to remove your other tunics. If you want, I can help, or step outside. Once they’re off, I need you to lay on your back.”

 

Cullen stays still for a bit, while I rub gently at his shoulders through the blanket. “I… I’ll need help.”

 

“Of course. Not a problem.” I stay at his back as the blanket drops to his waist for now. I do the same steps as before, roll the tunics up to his ribs, maneuver right arm through, left arm through, and then set them aside. My eyes fix on the back of his sweat soaked hair; this is not the time to be looking at muscles of a sick friend. I rewrap him in the blanket and slowly set his back down. I pull the chair closer, and help him bend his legs up to set on it.

 

Not knowing where his vials are, I reach for the chair and finger search through my purse. I nab my peppermint oil before butt scooching myself to align with his head. I gently pick him up at the neck, which is _rock hard_ in tension, and set him partially in my own crossed legs. I push the blanket just a touch down so his collarbone line and up shows. “Alright now, cross your hands on your stomach, and breathe _in_ through your nose. Try to make them long, slow, but deep breathes. Hold them for a bit, then breathe out through your mouth. Try to focus on that or… maybe the Chant? Just try to relax as much as you can.”  I see him shift as I told him, his eyes closed and still clenched.

 

I rub my vial in my palms quickly, hoping to warm it up some for the next steps. Past friends liked to say I could put them to sleep with my rubs, but I’ve never tried to use massage to relieve a headache. I pop the cork and drizzle nearly all I have left onto my right fingers. I set the cork back in with my teeth, before nudging it aside and rubbing the oil between my hands. I hear him give an extra sniff to take in the smell. I reach under him and start right where the neck meets shoulder, hissing myself at the sheer tightness that has taken over his back.

 

I have to dig in like I’ve never dug in before, but I will not leave Cullen in this state alone. He keeps up with his breathing, though as I work, he hisses sometimes. I think it’s about 20 minutes in when I finally notice any loosening, and Cullen lets out his first ‘oh that feels good’ groan. And just like every friends’ happy groans before, I snort and quietly giggle. He gives a lopsided smirk, but he continues his breathing. What is it about groaning that makes me get all giggling and blushy? BLAH!

 

I’m on just his neck, making long, slow up and down slides when I notice those pulsing side veins are calming. I reach higher, at the base of his hairline, and make short but deep circles. A deeper groan and I snort hard again, having to pause this time as I shake a little from my giggles. Least I’m not a teapot.

 

“My caretaker seems to be quite cruel. Laughing at my pain.” His eyebrows are up, even if his eyes are still closed. I cup his neck in one hand while my other loops higher up to give his crown a scratchy scratch.

 

“Shush, Commander Dog Lord. Just keep the breathing up, ok?” Both hands back on the neck, he gives me a confirming hm.

 

More time passes and his color improves and he isn’t sweating. And he really likes scalp massages, considering he’s leaning heavily into my right palm while my left is making long looping scratches. “How are we feeling, Cullen?”

 

“Markedly better, though I do not feel I have the strength to move.” He nuzzles into my palm more. I’m hit with a sudden ‘This could be seen as something intimate’ thought that makes me look more in depth at what we are doing. Commander Cullen, leader of the Inquisition’s forces, is currently resting _in_ my lap. The prickliness of his stubble against my palm becomes noticeable, as are his breaths as they move past the edges of my fingertips. Resting against my legs, I can feel the thick muscles of his upper back and shoulders. Then comes the collapsing thought of this unworldly handsome man being naked from the hips up.

 

And he’s resting at ease in my lap.... _My_ lap.

 

 _‘Oh Anna, if only there was someone who loved you_ ’

 

I flinch and shove my fingers into my temple as my stupid depression shoves a random unwelcome thought to the front of my mind. Fuck, I know brain! I shouldn’t be looking at Cullen so closely. Crushing on him is bad; it would never be reciprocated.

 

_Has anyone ever looked at your fat ass and approved?_

 

I hiss this time, tensing up and pushing into my temple more. Shut up head, now isn’t the time.

 

“Ser Fannon?” I blink down to a curious Cullen, who has his eyes open. So damn pretty.

 

“Sorry, random thought out of nowhere. Spooked me. Let’s try sitting up slowly. Legs first. Very slowly, as they might cramp.” I continue my rubs, watching as he takes his left leg down, waits for the count of ten, then pulls down the right. I brace him as best I can and he rises slowly. His arms come up and out to help himself, and the blanket falls… away...

 

And now I am treated to the _very_ pretty picture of Cullen’s _very_ fit back. Broad at the shoulders while narrowing down to his waist and hips. Grooves of definition, even as relaxed as he is, are deeply cut into his slightly darker than mine skin. A speckling of freckles covers his shoulder blades themselves, while small old scars clip at his ribs. I grimace, hopefully quietly, at the marks that I assume were made by a whip that leave broader scars on his lower back. Why do I get the sense that was something from Uldred?

 

_Why the FUCK am I being a pervert and ogling Cullen? Fucking RUDE!_

 

“Maker’s breath,” Cullen whispers as he cradles his head and turns his neck. A blistering set of snaps, crackles and pops sound to which I giggle and he sighs in deeper relief. “Oh, my neck has bothered me for _days_.” He leans it the other way, getting a few more.

 

“Good. And the headache?” I squiggle away a bit to roll onto my stiff knees and pull myself up slowly. My pinky is jammed again, argghhh.

 

“A shadow of its former self. Thank you, Fann-”

 

“Oy, what did I say about _slowly_ , Mister? Wrap up in that blanket and give me an arm.” I’m blushing about drawing attention to his half nakky-ness and he turns blushy right back at me. He does offer me his arm, after we fix the blanket back around him and he gets up.

 

“I’m sorry you have to see me in this state, Fannon.”

 

I grr slightly and shoulderbump him.

 

“Headaches, body aches and what not are part of the detoxing process. I will _always_ want to help you through them.”

 

“Yes, but… not-not just that. My…” He coughs slightly and pokes at his chest through the blanket.

 

“Oh! Geez Cullen, you have nothing to be ashamed of. Your body looks great… oh shit, wait!” Cue the flaming of both our faces. “That’s not what, I mean on the one hand, surely other women have thought that… WAIT I’M MAKING IT WORSE!” I cover my face with my hands, stomping my feet slightly. “Male upper body… oh Jesus, those things are very common in my country. Men regularly go topless through the summer.”

 

“Surely not in front of women?!” Cullen balks at the idea, and his red is creeping down to his neck.

 

“Oh, it’s perfectly common for them to be topless in public. Especially swimming…” NOW I’M HAVING FLASHES OF MY BRAIN TRYING TO PUT CULLEN IN SWIM TRUNKS!!! “Ok, we need to _stop_ all thoughts right now.” I reach for my cloak and tie it on. “Are you feeling better?” I ask again, trying to be clinical.

 

“Much. Thank you again.” He’s gripping onto the blanket to make sure it stays shut.

 

“Then I think this is the perfect time for you to try to sleep. The lack of sleep probably didn’t help matters. Drink at least half a skin of water before you do.” Purse over the neck and shoulder, and god am I glad for a distraction.

 

“I still have some work to finish.” Oh, the Commander tone is trying to creep in. I turn to meet him face to face, tallllll, and gently touch both of his shoulders.

 

“Cullen, please. It will be there in the morning. Please please _please_ try going to bed. We’ve both had busy, partially shity days. It's ok to say ‘fuck it; tomorrow’. You aren’t going anywhere. The papers aren’t going anywhere. The only people going anywhere are going to be on a boat and blaghhhhh motion sickness.” He’s giving me that ‘I find this amusing’ smirk, but not agreeing with me. I give him two more pats on each side before letting go. “Take it easy, Cullen. I’m heading home.”

 

“Where only the bravest of hearts will disturb you.” His eyebrows go up so I raspberry him.

 

“Does the cutie pie Commander need a hair _cut_?” My name gets the red to overtake his face again. I snicker, clicking my teeth with my tongue and let myself out.

 

I blink at seeing Quill visible nearby and shoo him away. A shallow nod and he goes back to acting like a general person. Guess I was in there for awhile. AHH, other pinkie cramping!

 

Home, how I adore ye! Course, I don’t get to _stay_ home yet. Toss out the old water from my tub, and grab my buckets. I grab my big stick and sling the four empty buckets across my shoulders. Evening water run to the lake is icky, but needed. 3 buckets are straight from the lake, while the fourth is filled with boiled water. Got to love preventative care.

 

Home, how I adore ye, again, this time, for the night. Door lock, curtains drawn, switch batteries, clothes off…

 

It is here, in the middle of my giving myself a once over with my hand mirror again, that a thought erupts to the front of my brain.

 

It’s been over a month since I’ve had ‘me time’.

 

 _Whyyyyyy_ am I thinking about this?

 

Cause you just left a half naked-

 

HEAD MEET WALL!

 

No NO NO! I will not think of Cullen in such a fashion! He’s a good guy; not spank bank material.

 

Baaaaack musclllllles

 

“Fuck me!” I thump my head again. I growl for a bit before sighing. It wouldn’t matter, even if I did have some delicious mental material. I have only been able to get off with my hand _once_. The very first time ever. Everything since was a vibrator/B.O.B. My guts get in the way of my… reach, tiring my hand out very quickly.

 

Oh shit… I haven’t even had a wet dream since coming to Thedas… fuck, no wonder my brain has been in the gutter so much.

 

Delicious, biteable back muscles.

 

Fuck. _thump_. You. _thump_. Brain. _thump_

 

Delicious, biteable _gray_ back mus-

 

Medication! In mouth! NOW!

 

I swig my medicine, dancing around trying to stop my damn pervy self from thinking, and finish up my nightly routine. Hair up in a top knot, _deep grooves along a shirtless back with water droplets sliding down,_ brush the teeth, _thick calves and long toes rubbing up against my own in bed,_ and dive for my pillow nest.

 

For once, I’m kind of glad to be in the thick black void of the Fade. Nothing to see, nothing to think, nothing to-

 

Thick, muscular _gray_ necks-

 

FUCK ME!!!

 

I’m face down in my little area of the Fade (Solas says my spot  is a ten by ten square, go fig), arms thrown over my head, kicking my feet as I sulk.

 

And, after who the flip knows how long in the inky blackness of nothing but bishounen on my mind, a finger touches my hand. I whine like the most pathetic beat dog ever as I hear _Hahren_ partially choke on a laugh.

 

“I was not aware you were attracted to anyone, _da’len._ You… certainly have an appreciation for the male form.”

 

I whine even worse, keeping my face flat to my Fade ground, but bunching up my body to try to hide. “It’s not funny, Solaaaaas. I can’t get my brain to shut up.”

 

“In this case, I must beg to differ. I feel I should warn you now; Varric believes he can find you a romantic partner. He has started a pool on the matter.”

 

I argggggg, and finally look up at my fav elf scholar, with the… voice.

 

‘ _Nothing could be worse than the thought of living without you’_

 

FUCKING FENRIS’ SUGAR MELTING VOICE!

 

I dig my face back down as Solas turns his head to look around the Fade again.

 

“Well… what interesting markings he has.”

 

Sweet merciful Jesus or Maker on high, please kill me!!!!!

 

“I believe I have seen this warrior. Is he not a companion for the Champion of Kirkwall?”

 

‘ _It is time for me to move on. Unless you’d... care to get to know each other better, Champion. I warn you, I grew up amongst whores. My fingers are_ quite _nimble.’_

 

BRAIN STOP!!

 

“Strange, I was not aware a friend of the Queen’s was in Kirkwall. I have seen memories of his flirtatious nature, though, towards the Queen herself.”

 

“Pleaaaaaase, Solas, can you knock me unconscious? Or… leave? This is so embarrassing!”

 

“Something about today has sparked a renewed interest in possible romance for you. This is nothing to be embarrassed about. Blackwall seems quite respectful of women.”

 

“UGHHH no! No way in hell! I don’t have any interested in lumberj… Solas… are you in that romance betting pool?” I look up again, just in time to see the tiiiiiiniest lifting of the corner of his lip before he releases my hand. “CHEATING!... Also not interested in anyone!”

 

‘ _I could also stand around and look pretty, if you prefer. Warm your bed?’_

 

“FUCKING HORMONES!!”


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Off to Par-is... uh Val Royeaux.

Varric sipped his travel mug of tea as it steamed in the frosty air. Pre-dawn wake up call by Fishie was not the best way to encourage sleep. Still, a few rounds of Wicked Grace with Hero and Chuckles, who wiped the floor with them by his third hand ever, helped to settle the dwarf. Repacking had been a breeze. Songbird’s little mages had flocked to him and the Warden during and after dinner, asking to help with anything. Couple of cleaning spells, several recharged warming runes, and one short braid for Hero had the kids cheering in success. Songbird had done a good job of bringing out the little ones’ manners and good natures.

 

Varric sipped again as he looked behind him to the training field and town. The Herald, Seeker and Nightingale looked to be going over some last minute lists while Hero slipped by them with his pack over his shoulder. The author turned his attention to the right where Chuckles was also nursing some tea, though there were some strong grimacing going on such a normally stoic face. To his left were bustling servants under the gaze of Ruffles, getting everything settled into the proper boats. Far as the dwarf could tell, Fishie and Seeker were in one boat, he and Chuckles in another, and the Warden and all the luggage in a third. Nice and organized, though that didn’t make the idea of the boat ride any more settling to Varric’s stomach.

 

Two more sets of footsteps were coming from behind Varric to the right and he turned back to see Curly escorting Fannon by the arm. Both looked like they had been overnight at the Hanged Man during a night of Bard Battles. Strangely enough, it was an improvement from yesterday for the ex-Templar. Songbird, on the other hand, obviously needed the Commander’s support as she wobbled slightly on her right side. Dana broke away from Cullen to stumble over to Varric, giving that ‘I am not even remotely awake’ groaned greeting before cuddling onto his back and leaning her chin on the top of his head. Arms loop around his shoulders and he’s pretty sure she’s immediately trying to doze on him. Course, he would never admit it out loud, but the swells over her chest, against the back of his head, could easily be used as pillows for him. She actually ran a little cooler than most humans. He kept his tea in one hand and reached up to pat the woman’s hands. She groaned another ‘hi’ and kissed his hair. Damn sickeningly sweet.

 

“Didn’t sleep so good, Songbird? The Warden said you left town pretty early. Fishie said she passed you on the way to meet Seeker.” The dwarf was surprised, though he didn’t show it, as the teacher grunted in agreement and stole his tea. Hearing her sip the brew, he once again realized just how much of a non-Thedas human she was.

 

“Perhaps last night’s visit to the Fade was an eventful one. Rather than her normal, restful visits.” Chuckles offered with that strange twist in his voice that seemed to happen when he was being sarcastic. Varric felt Songbird’s head turn in his direction and a playful grr came from her throat. Solas _tried_ to look surprised as he sipped his tea.

 

“You are so not funny this morning, Solas- ** _seonsaeng-nim_**.” Fannon gave the dwarf back his mug and continued to snuggle.

 

“A pity you feel so, though I have been called humorous by very few in the past.” Solas offers in exchange for the rather cranky remark. Odd, the two of them were normally rather in sync with each other. Like a worn out uncle and niece, but still.

 

“Wait a minute, you _hate_ tea, Solas.” Ah, the true Sooth-Sayer’s tone. So the elf was doing something unexpected for what the woman knew of him.

 

“I do indeed. Though sometimes one must do something they find distasteful to achieve a greater goal. Tell me, how has the trails against your dislike of vegetables been going, _da’len_?”

 

A rich, rather deep for the woman, grumble brews in her chest before she makes a long blow out of air. “Your recipes have been a big help, Solas, though eating them raw is still a big challenge.” Varric grins softly as Songbird yawned, clicking her jaw against his scalp. “Oh, Varric?”

 

“Yeah, Songbird?”

 

“Why are you trying to ship me with people?”

 

The dwarf snorted at the vocabulary used. “Alright, you’re gonna have to explain that one, sleepyhead.”

 

“Explain wha-oh. Shipping, taken from the word relationship. Usually used for a form of fiction, it is where the reader decides that two characters in the story would make good partners, even if they don’t end up together. Example: While watching Hawke in Kirkwall, I totally shipped her with you.”

 

Varric had to belly laugh, damn nearly dropping his tea _and_ clocking the cuddling human in the jaw. “Oh shit, really?!”

 

“It was early on. She hadn’t met the others in my visions at the time. And there you were, rescuing her from a thief with one bolt from Bianca. Such a heroooo!” He was squeezed even tighter now, hearing one of those long, happy sound effects she does.

 

“Hm, when you say it like that, it does sound like something from a cheesy 5 copper trash novel.”

 

“It was so sweeeeeettttt, though I’m secretly betting it was a scam. You totally paid that pickpocket to make yourself look good.”

 

Varric snickered softly, because the woman wasn’t wrong. “Alright, got to ask, what brought this on?” Varric watched his tea be stolen again.

 

“A certain mage, who shall not be named this morning, visited last night and informed me of your shipping pool. I feel I should warn you, _no one_ is winning that bet. Remember how I mentioned I have never been courted, well, never dated in my terminology.”

 

“I remember, Songbird. But, as your friend,” Varric grinned as he suffered another squeeze, “I should warn _you_. You’ve been getting looks.” Varric had on good authority, namely her own kids, that Fannon was seen out with Cullen a few times. Apparently other people had offered the traditional ‘can I get you a drink’ which Fannon rejected for her mug of water. The fact it _was_ a line didn’t pass her, but the idea of the line being used _on_ her, did.

 

A loud and very self-deprecated bark of a laugh was her answer, and his tea was handed back. “Looks of ‘Wow, there goes the Mad-Woman of the Inquisition again.’”

 

Varric internally sighed; he’d heard that tone before. It was the tone of someone who saw themselves as lower than others. Hawke had spoken of herself like that for a few months after Sunshine contracted the Blight and went to the Wardens. Junior’s deflection to the Kirkwall Templars hadn’t helped, either. _That_ news, of both twins being alive, had tripped up the teacher badly, saying she had always seen Bethany die to the orge. She lost a few fingers, sure, but she was still well.

 

The Sooth-Sayer’s _demand_ that Bethany be found immediately did not hold well for the dwarf.

 

“Everything appears to be in order, Lady Herald.” Ruffles calls everyone’s attention and soon the others gather closer to each other. Varric watches quietly as the others move to what they feel is the natural grouping. He doesn’t like what he sees. As much as he wants to discredit his earlier suspicions, he notices Fishie immediately makes a tighter group of the advisors, Seeker and Warden, leaving he, the attached Songbird, and Solas slightly on the side lines. Curly is the one bridging the gap, angling himself in front of Varric. After a month in the Hinterlands, he had hoped the level of comfort Fishie showed Cassandra was just because the two were so similar. Now he was starting to suspect something else. Songbird stayed snuggled tight against his back though.

 

“We have checked off anything trade worthy. Each of your packs are on the boat.” Josephine flips through her papers.

 

“Fannon, any last minute notes of advice?” Seeker asked, all keyed up for the Envy demon that was almost a week away. Songbird yawned again before letting go of Varric. A quick rush of cold air after her lose went for his neck. He controlled his face as he felt a piece of parchment slip under his necklace and into his coat. Oh, a secret?

 

“Remember that Envy is the _leader_ of a _force_. How big they actually are, I don’t know. Everything has been bigger in size from my visions, so it stands to reason that the number of people would also be bigger. Whether those members know who Envy is or not, I also don’t know. I do know one thing; if any of them look like they have an angry red infection going on, they are _very_ likely to be on Envy’s side. Solas, if you can, you might try sneaking a head barrier around the Chantry speaker. It would look good for us to protect Chantry members I think.” An even bigger yawn, this one she tries to hide in ‘polite company’ fashion. “Ughhhh, I am so going back to bed after this.”

 

“Services begins in a little over an hour, though.” Fishie counters, in a too indifferent to actually  be indifferent tone.

 

Fannon shrugs, reaching up to hold her neck as her back stretches. “I haven't gone to Church even in my home country since I was… probably a teenager.” The mildly disgusted gasps from Seeker and Fishie actually make the teacher smirk. “It’s alright. Wouldn’t it be worse for a non-believer to pretend to be a believer? Sounds sacrilegious to me.”

 

Varric grinned some as all the tidbits were handled and they were set to head off. A round of ‘Bye’ hugs was offered, such Varric gladly accepted. The Warden got one of his own from the mildly insane woman, though she turned to Solas and said, ‘No hugs for you’. The mage’s lips pulled back some, a rather feral looking smile for the phlegmatic man. Fishie turned down the offer quickly, but Seeker, for once and with a very unsure expression, took the offer. Songbird was beaming and hugged the warrior quite enthusiastically, before clapping her twice on each shoulder. “You, Cassandra, are a badass demon slayer. You can _do_ this!”

 

Was that a blushing tint over taking the Seeker’s cheeks?

 

The five of them loaded into their boats with Chuckles and himself in the lead, just in case of ice needing to be melted according to Fishie. Heading into the narrow stream that connected the lake, Varric turned his face back and smirked. A little pink hanky was being waved at them from the shore.

 

Traveling down the stream was fairly easy; the Warden’s boat got stuck in the shallow water twice, but they made good time. Varric’s stomach did protest once they reached the lake though. This was going to be a long trip from here on out.

 

The _Autumn Joy_ was sitting in the middle of the lake, and the crew on board shouted their welcomes as ladders were sent down the side. Other ropes were flung down, allowing the Inquisition to have their things pulled on board. Varric double secured Bianca before he climbed up the ladder finally, mentally cursing all forms of vertical surfaces.

 

Once aboard, Captain Gelli, a Rivani- ah, the Maker loved his irony- greeted everyone before naming their sleeping spots. Gents on third deck, ladies on second. Varric watched the crew as coin changed hands. A mix of elves and humans, tattoos and non, and only one gave Varric any negative feelings, but he was small enough for Fishie and Seeker to take care of. The dwarf pulled his pack free of the others and settled himself into a spot next to the rail. Andraste’s merciful ass, he knew he was going to need it.

 

They set sail almost immediately after, with the Inquisition members who rowed them here heading into Redcliffe eventually. Within the hour, Varric was over the railing, cursing everything under the sun for his stomach. Within two hours, he had company in the Warden. By the time the ship hit open water, neither man had anything left in their guts and just nodded to each other in shared misery.

 

Chuckles joined them from time to time, though he was never sick and decided that they were quiet enough company to try reading next to. Currently, with the sun high overhead and a good, cool breeze on their faces, he was looking over the history of the Antivan royal line. “Damn, Chuckles. Nothing at all?” Varric asked in a rather jealous tone.

 

“Forgive me, Master Tethras. Had I known either you or Warden Blackwall did not take well to the sea, I would have prepared a second concoction for seasickness.” There was that bland tone again. Looks like all that sarcasm with Songbird was out of his system. The dwarf had to wonder if that had been the mage’s ‘playful’ side.

 

“Can’t remember the last time I was sick on a ship.” Blackwall chimed in, turning away from the rail and taking a seat against it instead. His arms came up, one over his eyes, the other to rest on his stomach.

 

“I do; every Maker-damn time I got on one.” Varric reached into his tunic and pulled out a small toothbrush, running it along his teeth to get any bits out to spit.

 

“You are quite far from the depths, Child of the Stone.” Ah, shit. And there was that title again. The mage was _fixated_ on the fact that Varric, and it seemed most surfacer dwarves, didn’t have this nearly religious ‘stone sense’.

 

“Chuckles, I’d love to meet a dwarf that enjoyed _swimming_ , let alone sailing, Pretty sure there are no seas or even big lakes down in Orzammar.” The dwarf almost felt a bit put out by the lack of rebuttal from the know it all. “So what got Songbird all pissed at you the morning? Really, since I’m pretty sure she was still trying to be _nice_ about it.”

 

Solas turned a page delicately before answering. “Yesterday seems to have sparked something in Fannon. An interest, if you will. When I visited her area of the Fade, she was going over a number of her visions. All, however, seem to involve what some would find as attractive men. She was embarrassed.”

 

Varric was down.

 

Holy shit, that was great! If it was anything like her ‘flirting/not flirting’ with Cullen that he had seen and heard of, he could just see her as red as his own tunic. The laughing wasn’t helping his stomach though, but he didn’t want to stop.

 

“Oh, by the Marker. What’s her type, Chuckles?”

 

“Ah, but that would be giving away an advantage I now hold in your bets, would it not?” Oh, the crafty son of a bitch.

 

“Alright, but she is interested in men? That narrows things down a bit.” Varric cackled a bit, adjusting his gloves as he plotted. The dwarf wasn’t going to say anything yet, but the ‘Shipping Pool’ as Varric was now determined to call it, wasn’t just for Songbird. For the teacher, Varric had three leads, though one was now off the table if she only liked men. Now Varric just had to decide who got top odds: Curly and Fannon, or Chuckles and Fannon.

 

“Is this… odd behavior for Ms. Fannon?” questioned the Warden, who had come out from behind his arm.

 

“Odder than her normal behavior?” Varric teased. Yup, she was an odd cookie. Probably even crazy, but she was a harmless version. A safe crazy. Varric had enough of the destructive kind.

 

“Well... yes.” Hero tried to be delicate about it, looking down into his lap.

 

“She told us,” Varric pointed at himself, Chuckles and over to Seeker near the bow, “real early on that she’s never been courted, and that she had ‘no interest in tangoing’ as she called it. Wonder what changed?” Varric side eyed the elf; damn dirty cheat for using his Fade visits with the teacher to get extra intel.

 

All the men were quiet, though the dwarf watched the wheels turning in the Warden’s head, and just a touch of pink stained his cheeks. Well, the Warden was definitely a change, but Songbird hadn’t been _too_ clingy with him. Just her normal friendliness.

 

“The children seem very taken with her. A number of the townsfolk seem to be as well.” The Warden commented off-hand, obviously wanting more details from the other men.

 

“She’s an absolute baby fanatic. We knew her 10 days before heading out to the Hinterlands, and the number of times she squealed around a kid was at least double.” Varric offered while rubbing at his ear. She had hurt a number of those with the pitch she can reach.

 

“For all the interactions I have seen of Fannon, she is as she claims. Very friendly, seeks to please and aid others, quick with bad humor and remarkably open minded as long as one’s beliefs do not impact others’ well beings.” Solas offered as he thumbed another page. “Do such characteristics pique your interest, Ser Blackwall?”

 

Varric would have laughed if he wasn’t intent on watching the man’s reactions. Blackwall blustered, not making any kind of understandable noises as his eyes wander back and forth as he thought.

 

“Not to mention the cavernous bust that gets pushed into your body as she hugs you. Wonder if it traps echoes.” Varric added, watching Blackwall’s face bloom in redness while Chuckle’s ears took on a tint of pink.

 

“I was not aware you might be watching her bustline so closely, Master Tethras. I did not hear your name in the betting pool.”

 

“Listen, Chuckles. I am a happily partnered man, but when a busty woman towers over you _and_ is huggy, you are probably going to get an accidently faceful. And if you don’t notice breasts as they press against your face-”

 

“Sweet Marker, would you both stop?” Blackwall was doubled over at the waist, covering his face. AHA, this trip was going to be fun, once they were off the water.

 

Turns out a few hours of bad weather, and much misery for Varric and Blackwall, delayed them enough to have them arrive in late evening the day before the meeting. Their lodgings were sponsored by small Orlais noble husband and wife who had been complimented by Songbird and Josie. They were a rare pair, in that they were welcoming enough to Solas and Varric himself. Oddly, the wife seemed to know of Varric, and he spent a few minutes signing her rather large collection of his titles. He wondered if he had any other Orlesian fans.  

 

The house itself was simple, by Orlais standards. 10 bedrooms, 5 on each side of the house with lavish kitchens and dining rooms, two sitting rooms, and 4 bathing rooms in between. Seeker’s suggestion of all of them staying to one side of the house was agreed upon. Their hosts took Cassandra and Fishie aside before bed to the small Andraste nock they had in the corner. Varric just sat in the sitting room, drinking a nice scotch while going over his notes. Songbird’s pen project had been taken on, and he’d be stamping his and her name on the patent while here. He turned through the already dozens of notes on his time traveling with the Herald. Just how much of what was happening in the Inquisition was actually believable to others? The dwarf watched, always noting what was happening, and noticed Solas’ blank stares at the elf servants as they crisscrossed the house silently. That confused the dwarf since the mage had seemed friendly to a pair of elven runners before. Blackwall had taken over a bathing room, trying to smarten up his woodsman appearance for tomorrow.

 

It was late, nearly 11th bell, when a messenger arrived. Plenty of letters from the Advisors and a reminder from Songbird, directly to Chuckles, to start explaining ‘science’ once the new people joined. Then there was the current happenings in town news. Turns out Nightingale had her scouts watching for the three people Songbird mentioned. The mage made her way to the Chantry daily, so there was a good shot she’d be there. Glimpses of a blonde archer elf were seen, but no one had been able to track her yet. The merc captain had been told the Inquisition would need to see him directly after the meeting, so the crew would be waiting close by.

 

The news of _who_ the force was got Fishie and Seeker riled. Templars. Andraste’s ass, was Varric tired of this mages vs Templar crap. He agreed with a statement by the teacher, back before they went to the Hinterlands for the first time. ‘Everyone needs to get laid or smoke something. Maybe both.’

 

The scout didn’t know who their leader was, but they had noticed at least a few with the ‘angry red infection’ Dana mentioned. Everyone spent some time getting extra prepared, while Cassandra muttered angrily and Fishie scoffed a few times. Varric wondered if he needed to send a raven to Haven to tell Songbird to hide from the warriors.

 

Awaking the next day to the gentle ringing of servants’ bells, Varric took a look at himself in the mirror. The graying of his red hair was getting more pronounced, but at least he didn’t suffer from the human problem of thinning. He could see some drooping in his cheeks that was hidden by him smiling so much. The mark on his nose was paling nicely; it would look pretty good once it healed completely. The rogue smirked at the fine stubble trying to overtake his face. He’d shave after the fight if he made it through.

 

He flicked his earrings and smoothed his chest and gut hair for luck before turning to his outfit of the day. Covert armor under thin outer layers. The leather pants were thick to try to hold against stabs. Slashes would still probably open him up. Over them would be some dark gray cotton slacks. His upper body armor was impressive. Thin leaves of steel were aligned in overlapping layers. He’d make some noise if he moved fast, but it should work well even against arrows. The sleeves ended above his elbows, where his magic enhanced gloves would continue his protection. His prized tunic, magically charged by Hawke, would be buttoned up for once; to keep the armor hidden. He brushed out his hair’s bed knots before tying it back. Alright, now to step into Maker knows what. He mentally borrowed one of Songbird’s phrases: what the ‘hell’ were they getting into?

 

They moved out early and followed Dana’s advice. Fishie strolled around with her chin high and in very obvious Inquisition garb. Seeker had buffed up the center of her chest plate, drawing attention to the symbol of her title. Blackwall took Fishie’s right, and Varric took note of the slightly drawn-in sides of the man. The Inquisition armor on him showed a still fairly fit build, but Varric was going to insist the man get seconds and thirds for the next few weeks. Varric himself was in an Inquisition colored scarf with the same colors on his leather ‘hat’. Solas, already normally dressed in greens, had a staff vest with bold Inquisition branding on the front and back. The dwarf and elf kept themselves behind Fishie; Solas for his hearing of trouble and Varric for his observation prowess while being overlooked himself.

 

They received a number of gasps, whispers, and two disgusted spits to the side. Still, the Herald greeted everyone with a smile, strained though it was. Varric sent quick glances up, swearing that he caught a flash of yellow and red along the roofs from that last turn. A low hm from Solas caught the dwarf’s attention, turning his face over to follow the mage’s rather disgruntled look.

 

A whistle pulled from the storyteller’s lips. “Well, she certainly wasn’t kidding about him being ‘a big ass Qunari’... Tal-Vashoth-whatever.” Varric didn’t have long to look, but he cataloged a few things from what he did see. One, he was a shade or two lighter than the Arishok he’d known in Kirkwall, but he was even less dressed. Seriously, why was with that? This big brute, with horns growing in a direction Varric personally hadn’t seen, only wore a bracing harness across his left shoulder. Looks like he was a little worse for wear than Songbird let on. A body full of scars, and there was an eyepatch above the grizzled looking face. Two, best guess at 8 feet with the horns, low end of 7 without them. One of the points was nearly hitting a shop sign. Three, he was definitely in a spot to keep watch over the meeting. He had his wits about him in that case. Maybe he was actually worth his reputation. Fourth, he had probably five or six of his crew with him. Definitely a range there, Varric was sure he saw another dwarf. They all looked to be making easy conversation with each other and the passing Orlesians. So, from the surface, an easy going, possibly even charismatic leader who survived some hard battles. Varric put all the information away for later.

 

They moved into the denser crowd that was surrounding the Chantry’s stage. Mostly humans, and especially humans with _ridiculous_ hats. Seriously, one woman looked like she was trying to be a qunari with hers. Up on the stage and around the base were a number of armored guards. At least one was in full Templar armor. No angry red infection on his dark skin. Varric scanned the different Chantry members, wondering which was to be the speak-

 

The elderly mother in the middle raised her hand and a quiet quickly fell over the crowd. Well, that was answered nicely. Varric saw Solas’s fingers twirling at his side, though he didn’t seem to cast just yet. The crowd separated, moving away from them, effectively making them _very_ obvious. Varric reached back and touched Bianca twice at her base. Show time.

 

“Good people of Val Royeaux. Hear me.” Kinda hard not to, lady, when everyone could now hear a pin drop. “Together, we mourn our Divine. Her beautiful and naive heart, silenced by treachery.” With the mother moving, angling herself to directly address Trevelyan, there was no doubt who the mother was blaming. Fishie took it well; her posture showing the acknowledgement of the accusation, but not angry about it. Cool acceptances while waiting for a chance to refute. Varric could still see a twitch in her fingers as they rested on her war mace, though.

 

“You wonder what will become of her murderer?” A pause, perfectly delivered Varric mentally noted, had a volume of disgruntled voices starting around them. “Well, wonder no more.” The voices were picking up in volume. Whoever was behind Varric seemed to be trying to decide to approach, based on the shuffling of the person’s boots. “Behold!” The mother’s hand, palm up, rose to directly point at Fishie. Varric normally had an appreciation for the dramatic. “The so-called Herald of Andraste. Claiming to rise where our beloved fell.” Well, no. She fell out of the Fade, actually. “We say she is a false Prophet! No servant for anything beyond her own selfish desires.” Damn, just lynch us already.

 

The voices silenced as Fishie took a step forward, meeting the mother’s tone with a fair bit of calm, though it was definitely fraying. “The Inquisition came here to speak peacefully, to seek aid in closing the hole in the sky. I have _never_ made claims against the Divine or Chantry. I was granted the power to seal rifts,” Fishie pulled off her glove in a flash, holding her green mark in the air for all to see. Most reacted by backing away. “I have used it for such only. I stand with the Left and Right Hands of the Divine to stop the rogue mages and Templars.”

 

Varric watched as Solas’ head turned, the thumming of leather and steel armor beginning to sound from the far west gate. Varric’s hand tapped Hero on the forearm, getting the man’s attention.

 

“It’s true. The Inquisition seeks only to stop this madness before it worsens.” added the Seeker to the mother.

 

The mother’s hand fanned out and toward the arriving soldiers. “It is already too late.”

 

All turned to the arriving Templars now. Many of the crowd gave stunned, but pleased murmurs. There was around 15 with one man, who was in full armor leading the force. A gasp from Cassandra had everyone tensing. “Seeker?” Varric whispered as the troops started to step up to the stage. Was she going to lose her composure? Who was the leader?

 

Solas’ fingers moved again, but he was looking to Cassandra for the word. Even Fishie rested her forearm to the Seeker’s.

 

“The Templars have returned to the Chantry.”

 

A deep breath from Cassandra rose out through her teeth, a nod, and they all stood firm again. Solas snapped his fingers.

 

“They will face the Inquisition, and the people will be safe once more.” Bianca was over his shoulder and opening as the leader of the Templars crossed in front of the mother. And just as Songbird said, _again_ damnit, one of the Templars behind him drove his fist forward to sucker punch the mother. Luckily for her, Solas’ barrier took the impact. The sound of the punch meeting magic caused both of them to jump. The Leader turned back, seeing the mother protected by magic, and the man turned back to snarl down at them, the obvious guilty party. The other Chantry members and the one earlier Templar rushed to the mother’s side, who is still confused.

 

“You dare use magic on a Chantry member, you filthy apostate?” All of their weapons were being drawn now, while people behind him were scurrying for safety.

 

“Lord Seeker Lucius,”

 

 Oh, shit!

 

“I, Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast, believe you are not who you appear to be!” A shine of blue overtook Cassandra’s palms, and Varric noticed a shiver run through Solas for a moment.

 

“You dare-”

 

“REVEAL YOURSELF, ENVY!!” The blue light traveled to and slammed into the man’s chest.

 

A thunderous boom filled the market, and it was only do to years of fighting that kept Varric on his feet and Bianca in his hands. The good Templars grabbed up the mother and ushered her aside. The other members followed, but 11 of the Templars that arrived with Envy stayed. Now the stage filled with black and green smoke. More chaos behind them as horns sounded and screams echoed. Varric could just hear shouts of ‘Safety is this way’ as he cocked Bianca and readied a bolt for the Templars.

 

Until the monstrosity revealed itself.

 

The thing towered over them on two sickly thin legs that bent and moved in disjointed ways. It was pinkish white in tone and the thin nature of the beast continued to its torso. There, two large arms with dead black fingers were matched with two smaller arms of the same nature. Last was its head, covered in thick, pulsing red veins. A maw with crooked, sharp teeth was at its center with smaller sets of teeth up more where eyes should be.

 

“THAT IS ONE UGLY SON OF A BITCH, SEEKER!” Bianca fired, bolt landing in the neck of one of the charging infection Templars. That was the plan; Fishie and Seeker focus on the demon from the start, Solas keep up the barriers to protect them and stop Envy from escaping, while Varric and Warden took out the extras.

 

“INQUISITION!” Ho-o-oly damn! What was that war cry?! The hulking Qunari from before comes running forward, huge two handed axe at the ready while a dagger wielding elf and human with a two handed maul run with him.

 

Envy shrieks and slashes out all four arms, making Fishie and Seeker duck to the side. Another bolt from Bianca has a second Templar blinded, but an arrow from above, right into a tiny gap between the chest plate and helmet, is what has the Templar woman gagging on blood. The red and yellow blur was back, and this time Varric could see her up on the balcony railing. “Sera spotted!” Varric called out as the dagger elf leapt over him to slice open another Templar.

 

Fishie and Seeker worked as a great team. Seeker took a blow with her shield while Trevelyan slamming a chunk of the demon off with her war mace. The demon reared back, this time it was the Herald holding it back with her shield and Cassandra gets a good hack in.

 

Varric’s breath catches in his throat for a moment, a freezing burn that makes him cough. Spikes of ice slam into Envy’s legs, sckrewing through two of its toes. A statuesque woman, the one with the qunari horn hat, waved her ‘walking stick’ as she summoned other ice barriers to keep the fighting in close quarters. The dark skin of the woman gleamed against the glaciers she created, but she kept her attacks to the demon’s lower half.

 

Which was good as the Qunari used a lion statue as a jumping platform, axe cleaving down into and through the demon’s top left arm. It got caught on the second arm though, and the demon slapped the man off of it, sending him hard into the street. “THAT ALL YOU GOT, DEMON SHIT?!”

 

“JUST DON’T STEP ON ANYONE, TINY!” Varric called out, bolting the knee cap of another Templar, allowing Hero to slam his shield into his face before beheading the man with his waraxe. A boom of a laugh was Varric’s answer. The dwarf grinned as a new arrow pierced into one of Envy’s smaller mouths, and a ‘Piss off!’ sounded from on high.

 

“How dare you take away my form?!!” Envy got a good swipe in, catching Cassandra in the breastplate and sending her flying. Solas’ barrier cushioned the fall, right before he sent a precise lightning bolt through Sera’s arrow into the thing’s head. It screeched, throwing its three hands up to its face. A thicker ice spike slammed into its exposed gut, digging into its ribs. Fishie and Hero charged in, kneecapping the demon and sending it the ground.

 

“You are no Herald!” rasped the demon, just as Fishie, Hero and the Qunari slammed their respective weapons into its face. With a death scream of nightmare proportions, the demon faded into smoke. The sound of a blade passing out of flesh, the dagger elf having dispatched the last of the Templars, brought a deathly calm to the market. Panting, Varric took in the scene, as most of them did. The damage was contained and there was not a soul around so the escape routes must have worked.

 

“I owe Songbird so many drinks after this shit.” Varric said before chuckling under his breath.

 

“DAMN, Inquisition! You know how to have a fight!” The Qunari looped the axe over one  shoulder, grinning and helping the Seeker up. His two members sent out a set of whistles, and movement came to life in a few of the alleys.

 

“Quite, but was it such a wise idea to expose the demon in a market full of people, my dear Herald?” Now that was a cultured, and snobbish, voice. The woman, Madame de Fer was her name right? took well measured steps forward, offering her hand to the Herald. Fishie, leaning heavily on her right side, took the hand to stand up, Hero offers his side to help keep her that way.

 

“We had no choice, I am afraid. If we left the demon be, he would have shown himself at another time, likely with just as many people around.” Solas started levitating the bodies of the Templars into piles. “Was there any mention as to what these Templars were afflicted with?”

 

“There was not, though I believe I have a guess.” Cassandra walked over to a Templar with no helmet. Her palm spread above the skin and ghosted up and down the man’s angry veins. The infection fucking moved! “This is not a sickness infection. This is a form of lyrium.”

 

“What kind of lyrium can-Oh SHIT!!” Varric swore a few more shits under his breath as his fist thumped against his forehead. She told him! She had already told him! ‘Crazy ass lyrium that turns people into crazy ass people.’ “How were they all exposed to red lyrium?”

 

“I think another question along the same line is why it affected them like this.” Fishie remarks from Hero’s side, Madame de Fer keeping close. Even without those foot long heels on her boots, the mage woman would be tall. She looked perfectly put together, which made Varric uneasy. No one should look so kept after a big fight. The hat wasn’t even tipped! Had to admit though, she was a looker, for a human. Her facial bones weren’t quite as sharp as the Seeker’s, but her cheeks were high and her jaw a more feminine round. Gentle sloping nose over pouty, shined up lips. Her purple eyeshadow was in the style Songbird called ‘smoky eye’ and it helped her dark gray eyes pop. She had a nice silhouette, especially the very obvious and oddly large bosom window in her gray and white overcoat. A swath of fabric fell between her legs, which were covered by pants, in the same pattern. An upturned white collar, which nearly touched her ears made the dark-skinned woman a very attractive, but imposing figure.

 

“Crazy Templars, woodn’t know wat to do with themselves without their lyrium. Rrugh!” Ah, now Varric could hear why Songbird wanted Sera in her lessons. The blonde elf was sliding down some banisters to get to them.

 

“Hey there, was wondering who was such a good shot.” Bull turned to the elf as she got closer. “You need any work, missy? You’re a damn fine archer.” Varric couldn’t add much to his easier take on Tiny, except that he liked to grin and it was oddly warm for the gray face. That voice sounded like he gargled whiskey though.

 

“Piss off, ya big horned tit. Not interested in you. Interested in Ms. Fancy Pants Herald-thingy.” Sera looped her bow around her neck and shoulder before kicking at one of the bodies. Varric finally took a long look at the woman, though Varric would be more likely to call her a ‘girl’. She was tall for an elf, just an inch or two shorter than Fishie herself. Her hair, the dwarf would call it straw blonde, was cut very uneven and only just touched the back of her neck. She had two side bangs that went to her chin at least. Hazel blue eyes were set kinda deep into a freckled, pasty complexion. Girly needed to get some food in her too; wonder who’d win in an all you can eat between her and Hero? Her eyebrows were thin and carried a red tint to them that was followed by a hint of red eyeshadow. Somewhat of a rounded face, with a bit of bulbousness to her nose, and a small narrow chin. Pretty sure she was a pale as Songbird and Nightingale, but where Dana was _round_ and Leliana an all-over-fit, this girl had a willowy frame except for her arms. Looking through the frayed and patched up red shirt she wore, there were obvious lines and grooves of some good muscles. Course, an archer like her would definitely need them.

 

“Thank you for your assistance, but who are you three?” Cassandra asks dead pan as she stands up. Way to pretend that we don’t know these people, Seeker. At least act surprised.

 

“Right, so, here, in your face, I’m Sera.” The blonde elf offered as she adjusted her finger protection. “You messed up my plan big. Was wanting to see if you’d want in on taking care of a baddie rich tit. Been hurting lots of little people, and I heard you like little people for being a rich tit yourself.”

 

Herald’s eyes roamed over the elf, focusing on her bow until the mention of being a ‘rich tit’. That wasn’t such a great move, considering how stiff Fishie just went. “Who are you talking about?”

 

“Don’t know, just following the notes of my friends. The friends of Red Jenny?”

 

“Truly, _a_ Red Jenny? In dear Val Royeaux? Why would such an unscrupulous group be here?”

 

(Oh, I don’t know. Rampant racism against non-humans, especially from noble humans keeping elves as servants, might be a good place to start, Varric mentally scoff. Course that was pretty much everywhere; least Daisy never got hurt, thanks to his coin.)

 

The ‘cultured’ woman steps around Fishie, effectively making a vision barrier between the archer and the Herald, much to Sera’s displeasure. “My Lady Herald, I am Vivienne, First Enchanter of Montsimmard and Enchantress to the Imperial Court. I must admit, I too was not expecting to meet under such pragmatic circumstances. I was going to invite you to my home, so that you may see some of the finery of Orlais while you visited. Of course, I would still adore if you attended. I was hoping to discuss aiding the Inquisition with you.”

 

“Wat, another prissy nob using her money to try to buy herself some more nobs’ attention?” Sera scoffed in disgust and threw a two finger salute behind Vivienne’s back.

 

“My dear Red Jenny, my titles are not merely for namesake. I have refined skills in the art of magic that an _apostate_ would lack. I would be most useful in the fight to protect all we know and hold dear.” O-o-oh! Lady McSmugbutt was right. A turning in of Solas’ eyebrows is all the elf gives to show his displeasure at the ‘dripping with disdain’ remark the woman made.

 

“Creepy magic is creepy. Don’t need it, don’t want it, you-”

 

A loud ‘breaking up the awkward’ clearing of the throat came from the Qunari. He set his axe head on the ground, leaning on the handle. “Name’s The Iron Bull. Mercenary Captain of Bull’s Chargers. We’re here cause the Inquisition’s ambassador asked us to. Seems like a damn lucky thing we were too. Between your scouts and my boys, we got everyone clear.” Said boys had arrived from their alleys and were helping make up a pyre for the bodies. “The elf is Skinner, and this here,” he slaps one hand down hard on the man’s shoulder-who didn’t buckle under the weight-, “Is my second in command, Cremisius Aclassi. Kerm.”

 

“A Tevinter and a Qunari working together?” Varric had to voice a bit of his disbelief, especially after all the stories Fenris told and what he learned from the new Aristock.

 

“I know, right?” Tiny grinned and slapped the man again. “Pity most Vints aren’t as sensible.”

 

“Surely you do not follow that _barbaric_ practice, Ser Aclassi?” Fishie asked in a bit of horror, glancing up at Bull with flint-hard eyes.

 

“Now, now Fishie. If you see one of the big horn guys in the South, most of the time they aren’t following the Qun either. They get called Tal-Vashoth, cause those under the Qun don’t like ‘em.”

 

“Hey, you’re pretty well informed, though I think now isn’t the best time to talk practices.” Bull moved to change the topic. Hm, Varric didn’t see or hear any sign of the subject being uncomfortable.

 

“So, do the three of you wish to discuss joining?” Fishie lead moved the conversation to the meat and bones of the matter.

 

“Of course, my dear.”

 

“Psh, yeah.”

 

“Got some kinks to work out of the details, but yeah, if you guys get into fights like this one.”

 

The crowd was starting to return, just as Solas and Vivienne cast fireballs onto the wood of the stage that made up the pyre. Some cheered, some looked on in awe, but still a large number were uneasy. Songbird’s mention of Vivienne being good with other Orlesians definitely held true as between her and Fishie and Seeker, the Inquisition had the crowd sorted and a number of new interested parties. Varric quietly noticed how the Chargers were tending to a few injured members, and sadly, the small bits of side eye Fishie was delivering toward Sera and the merc captain. The dwarf was definitely getting curious about what was going through the warrior’s mind. A few of the Chantry members and the non-red-lyrium Templars asked to speak with Fishie in a quieter setting. They’d be having company later today.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you might be surprised by Varric's observations. I welcome you to rereading Marina's view point and last chapter. (Sunday edit: Reread their time in the Hinterlands too and chapter 17, not last chapter. My chapters are off) Dana might not get people right all the time, but she's not always wrong either.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisition grows, and Fannon gets some attention... and maybe not the good kind
> 
>  
> 
> **Due to needing to buffer, yes, no updates in June. This chapter is earlier because I'll be third shift, 10 pm to 6 am, until Tuesday**

**_ The dwarf was definitely getting curious of what was going through the warrior’s mind. A few of the Chantry members and the non-red-lyrium Templars asked to speak with Fishie in a quieter setting. They’d be having company later today. _ **

 

 

 

The eight of them arrived back at their host’s home and were given the larger dining room. Varric quietly snickered to himself as Sera tried to show off by sitting on the back of her chair. Vivienne sat very delicately, and the Bull looked skeptical at the chairs and leaned against the wall. Fishie and Cassandra took the lead at the table while Blackwall sat on the side with Sera and Vivi and he and Solas sat on the side with Bull. Seeker took the lead.

 

“Thank you for returning with us. You each said you wanted to join the Inquisition. We would be glad for the help, and we had a demonstration of each of your skills. There are a few of us, those present, travel with the Herald personally. We are at the front lines, taking on Templars, rogue mages, and demons. If you wish to aid us directly, you must understand what you will face. Many times, we are the ones to enter a new area and the first to face combat. The Inquisition soldiers may work with us or come in after us, in some cases. Where would you like to stand?”

 

“Demons, dragons, magic or swords. All sounds like a good fight to me. You need a frontline bodyguard, I’m your man. My boys can help run supplies, defense; we’ve done it all.” The merc captain offered, rolling back his shoulders while keeping his eye on Fishie. Nice sales pitch; ‘nothing scares me and I can work with anything you give me’.

 

“I’ll stand with Ms. Fancy pants, yeah? Templars and mages both need their heads knocked in. World needs to get back to normal for coin to get flowing again, rite?” Sera agreed, though she fell off the back of the chair and now had to sit right.

 

“I look forward to lending expert magical advise to any and all of the mages the Inquisition has taken under its banner. As leader of the last loyal mages, I have plenty of guidance and information from properly obtained learning.” Maker, woman, could you lay on the ‘apostate elf knows nothing compared to me’ any thicker? Solas, to his credit, simply raised his left eyebrow.

 

“We thank you. Does anyone have any questions or concerns before we set arrangements for your departures?” Fishie took over now, standing and looking to each of the new members.

 

“I’ve got some, though nothing to get anybody’s pants in a twist. First off,” and Varric instantly noticed a change. Gone was the casual, almost carefree merc and here now stood a shrewd mind. Shit! “How do you guys _know_ that thing was a demon in disguise? And don’t give me that ‘we guessed’ shit. There is no damn way you five would have attacked that thing in a full crowd if you didn’t _know_ it was a demon.”

 

“Indeed. Not to mention all the Inquisition members that took charge of escorting people to safety.” The mage added with her own calculating sneer.

 

“And there’s even more to it,” the big guy wasn’t letting up! “You weren’t surprised by any of us, or our fighting tactics. For shit’s sake, the dwarf said ‘Sera’s spotted’. You knew each and every one of us before our introductions.”

 

“Wat? Really?” Sera’s interest was back on.

 

“That is a remarkably perceptive analysis while amidst combat.” and damn if that didn’t sound like a compliment from Solas.

 

The big guy looked on quietly for a moment, before crossing his arms and adding, “That’s what the Ben-Hassrath get trained to do, and I’m still one of their best.”

 

Varric was very glad to have Bianca on his lap, because now things could be getting serious. “You’re a Ben-Hassrath?!”

 

“The Qunari spy network, is it not?” Solas added, and Varric would bet silver he had just heard a tightening in the elf’s voice.

 

Seeker and Fishie looked each other over before Fishie _angrily_ said, “What are you spying on then? Are you here to convert people to the Qun?” Ok, while a potential concern, definitely not the most important one there, Herald.

 

“Nah, that’s for the priesthood to do. My orders were to make contact with the Inquisition, get in, and report on whether you have a handle on the situation. Magic out of control like that could cause trouble all over. The Ben-Hassrath want to know that you can take care of it, or… well. You sign me on, I’ll send reports that tell them how you’re kicking ass. I’ll get reports back that could help you win over more support.”

 

Fishie’s arms were folded and she looked ready to pop. “An agent of Qun _doesn’t_ want to convert people? That goes against every story and account I’ve ever heard.”

 

Good on the giant for not getting drawn into a practice debate with the Herald or getting flustered. “The Qunari are worried about the Breach. That thing could affect more than just the South. Whatever I am, I’m on _your_ side. Besides, pretty damn sure you’ve got someone in your organization that’s willing to vouch for me.”

 

Varric and Solas were able to keep straight faces, but Blackwall blew it by going wide eyed and Cassandra going ‘too indifferent.’

 

“What would make you say so?” The Seeker’s chipped tone got Tiny to smirk.

 

“Alright, let's break it down. The Inquisition started asking around about the Chargers awhile ago. Why? You’re still a fresh organization under alot of suspicion; hiring mercs wouldn’t have helped your rep before busting that demon. Then there’s today, you all knew about that demon, but the Seeker of Truth was still surprised to see _who_ it looked like. You knew that mother was going to get sucker punched, and the whole point of a sucker punch is _no one_ sees it coming. You lot knew of Sera, Viv, and-”

 

“You will address me as Enchanter Vivienne, Court mage to the Empire of Orlais or Madame de Fer. Not. Viv.” Damn, did it just get cold in here?!

 

The tone got the big guy to pause, and even shallow. “Of course, Ma’am. Sorry, Ma’am.” Sera snickered aloud while Varric did his mentally.

 

The mage woman nods a touch. “That will do as well. Continue, my dear. I believe I am seeing the pieces as well.”

 

“Right. The sucker punch. The elf said something about if you hadn’t taken the demon on now, he’d have shown up again. All this shit points to the Inquisition having either a DAMN good spy, or more likely, a Rivani seer, one that sounds better than any other I’ve _ever_ heard of.” The big guy was watching them all, but damn if he hadn’t gotten it in one.

 

The dwarf tossed his head back and snarled before standing up, to everyone’s confusion and went over to the boxes of things they traveled with. He opened his pack from where it sat on top of the box Songbird sent over with them. “How in Andraste’s blessed ass does she do it?!” Varric reached in for a sleeve of letters he had been instructed to find. Songbird had slipped them in, all with instructions to be read in case of certain events. He pulled the top one out, the one she had slid down his coat before leaving, flipping it open. The dwarf snarled once more before clearing his throat.

 

“Dear Varric. Sorry to put this on you, but I think you’re the best one for the job. I have included, to the best of my abilities, a number of letters that can be read once you arrive in Val Royeaux and certain things happen. They are each numbered.” Varric looked down at the letters, finding the first numbered one and opening it. The dwarf hm-ed as he quietly read over the options now. “Please turn to letter number 5 if you guys did take on the Envy demon.”

 

“She had these prepared?!” Seeker was floored, slapping her palm to her forehead and seating hard in her chair. Vivienne and Bull leaned in closer while Sera looked disgusted between Bull and the letters.

 

Varric took his seat back and thumbed through the letters again. He found five and cracked the seal. “Hi guys. I want to start off by saying sorry to Cassandra.” The Seeker looked up in surprise. “You’re probably mad at me for not warning you about Lucius and the Templars. And now you know that Envy’s host, the real Lucius, is still out there. Yes, he really is working for the one who killed the Divine, and he knows _who_ he’s working for. I’m sorry, Cassie. This whole missions hurts you the most. I know where Lucius is, though. I promise, we’ll get him.” The table was quiet as Cassandra locked her hands together and rested them on her forehead. Everyone gave her a few moments, Fishie resting her hand on the woman’s shoulder. Varric looked at his instructions.

 

“Please read letter 6 if there are any worries about Iron Bull’s _other_ job (Varric slide that letter to the side)... Letter 3 is in case someone figures _me_ out (Varric moved that one too)... and Letter 2 is just for you Varric if you are still in Orlais. Once all situations have been read for, please burn the other letters. They’d be kinda confusing otherwise.”

 

“If you would, my dear, I would very much like to hear the third letter to see if our charming spy was correct.” Vivienne asked, while Sera muttered something about ‘creepy seer, creepy magic, creepy seer magic!’

 

Varric opened that one, mentally stopping on the first line, reading the whole thing to himself, before slapping his hands onto the table and laughing until wetness formed in his eyes. “O-o-oh shit! Songbird!”

 

“Wat your creepy, magicy witch say?”

 

Varric kept a grin on his face as he read. “ ‘So, given what I know about everyone, I think there is a fair chance someone, probably Bull, is going to guess I’m a Sooth-Sayer. If so, read the following in the best imitation of me you can make, please.’ Alright now how does Songbird’s accent go… ‘This is Bullshit! How are you _that_ good, you overgrown asshole?!’” Varric had to pause and laugh, matched by the Bull’s booming echo off the ceiling, Blackwall’s raspy chuckle and a small huffing laugh from Solas. Sera was even making little stuttered giggles as Varric continued. ‘Just for this crap, I’m making sure Flissa, the _red_ headed bar attendant, doesn’t serve you for the first week you’re in Haven. Your horned ass is _owned_ ’.” Blackwall smacked his hands on the table as Varric threw the letter onto it.

 

“Even in her letters, that woman has _one_ blunt mouth.” The more stoic members gave some hm of agreement while Bull slapped his own palm down on the table, reading the letter himself.

 

“Damn, she’s good. Even knows about my weakness for redheads? I think I like this Sooth-Sayer.” Varric very shyly looked over to Fishie about the redhead thing. She looked disgusted, but the big man never looked at her; smart move. “Damn her handwriting got better, too.” All heads turned to the Qunari as he reached into one of the pocket bags on his belt and pulled out a little slip of paper. Unfolding it, Varric could see the few little words and the marked improvement in writing. “This was another tip off, by the way. If it hadn’t been for the demon, I would have guessed you had an old member of my crew on board. She knows our rallying cry.”

 

“Varric, read the 6th letter. I’m still unhappy about an active _spy_ on my team.” Fishie still looked ready to go toe to toe with Bull, so Varric opened the letter quickly.

 

“So Bull’s a spy, also known as a Ben-Hassrath. What does that mean for the Inquisition? Exactly what he’s, likely, already said. He’s under orders to watch and report that the Breach is being worked on. And since the Herald is the only one who can close it, with help, she is the one person the Qun isn’t going to touch. Everyone is at risk from the Breach, don’t fuck with the one who can fix it. Please have Bull send all of his reports through Leliana. She knows what she’s doing. P.S. If you are worried about price, let me sweeten the pot. Bull?’...oh Maker, she actually wrote this like she’s asking you directly, Tiny.”

 

A gleam of teeth was the Spy’s answer, before clearing his throat. “Yes, little Sooth-Sayer?”

 

“Alright, now shites gettin’ weird.”

 

“ ‘You like dragons, right’?”

 

Bull whistled, giving a happy little grunt of agreement.

 

“ ‘How about the chance to face a High Dragon’?”

 

The man groaned as he stretched out his back before rubbing his face. “Damn, she is good… still, we’re expensive for a reas-”

 

“ ‘How about 10! High dragons’?”

 

A few curses, only half in Common, was his answer as his fingers starting moving in that ‘let’s do some math’ way. “Arggg, fine! If your Sooth-Sayer deliveries on the dragons, I’ll cut myself out of the payment. That drops our price down by a good quarter. Is she that good, dwarf?” Damn, was the thought of facing down a dragon _really_ making the big guy all excited twitchy?

 

“Varric Tethras my friend, and yes, she is that good.”

 

“Truly, darling? _The_ Varric Tethras of _Hard in Hightown_ and _The Champion of Kirkwall_ fame?” The previously ice queen thawed some, practically purring over his book titles, while he winced mentally, thinking about Hawke.

 

“At your service, Madame. I’m surprised you’ve heard of me; I’ve been told I’m not very popular in Orlais.”

 

“My dear, what crass, uncultured fool told you such nonsense? I can most assure you, you are _very_ popular in Orlais.”

 

Varric pondered that just as Solas’ voice started. “ ‘Varric, you need to have a few words with your publisher. ‘You rotten lying bastard’ seems a good place to start. Check the bookstores, you are there. Ask Madame de Fer what the Council of Heralds are reading. Get the gold your books have earned and kick some…’ She continues to use a number of colorful words after that.”

 

Varric reached out for the last letter and read it over, confirming Solas’ going over. “Oh, I am definitely looking into this.”

 

“Enough!” Nearly everyone jumped a bit as Fishie snapped, her teeth starting to grind on each other. “Right now, we need to lay some guidelines. The Iron Bull, against my current judgement, you _will_ be hired. This is temporary; if my spymaster catches anything detrimental in your letters, you are gone. Am I clear?”

 

“Perfectly, Boss.”

 

“Sera, Madame Vivienne, you are also accepted into the Inquisition. Please, are there any more questions or concerns? ” Fishie’s fingers were trying to find purchase in the wooden table.

 

“Wat’s got you in a knot, Herald-y?” Sera asked as she tried reaching for the other letters.

 

“Many devout Andrastians are uncomfortable with the Qun, dear little archer. And to have a still actively practicing member amongst us…”

 

“That’s the kind of attitude that got the Viscount’s son murdered.” Varric stated simply, trying to make his attempt of subject closure not too obvious.

 

“So, what’s the Seer’s name? Can’t be Songbird.” Bull follows his lead; definitely good at reading people.

 

“She is Ms. Dana Fannon, Sooth-Sayer to the Inquisition. She is not Rivani, however… we do not currently know where she is from. She claims to have been pulled from her home by a rift and deposited on the mountains near Haven.” Seeker spoke for the first time in a while, answering in a rather monotone voice.

 

“Lady Cassandra, will you be well?” Solas asked politely.

 

“In time, certainly if Fannon is right about the location of the true Lord Seeker.”

 

“We will find him, even if Fannon didn’t have the information. To _give_ form to Envy…” Fishie chewed on her lips, flashing her teeth in frustration.

 

“Well, speaking of Songbird and her weird visions, she sent some presents with us if you lot got in. Chuckles?” The dwarf was sick of the tension and went over to the boxes they brought. Noticing that the box was nailed in, the dwarf also called over Tiny to rip it open. Once the top was free, Solas pulled out several notes, a daintily wrapped bow with a leather belt and glass jars, a familiar looking book with its own small bow, and a larger jar of cream. Each present had either its owner’s name or, in Tiny’s case, a badly drawn picture of a bull.

 

Varric took over the letters, passing them out, eyebrows raising as there was a letter for nearly everyone, except Hero. “Looks like she didn’t plan ahead for you, Warden.”

 

“No.” Casandra offered as she turned over her letter to crack the seal. “A letter was delivered about Blackwall last night.” The Seeker turned to the surprised Warden. “She was regretful that she could not have your present prepared in time, but is adamant that it is ready on our return.” The Seeker then looked at her note, and her face bloomed into a blush. “Solas! Please, burn this! I cannot believe she would… in _writing!_ ” Chuckles took the small letter from her and burnt it to cinders over a serving tray.

 

“Ohhh, is she getting under you skin _again_ , Seeker?” Varric mused as he flipped his own letter.

 

_Hi Varric! I’m not really going to write what my present is. Too much of a chance of Leliana reading these. Although my present does involve a certain smith… :)_

 

The dwarf grinned before rubbing the smile off his face, looking to the others. Chuckles’ letter jingled as he opened it, and a single silver fell into his hand. The elf looked through the letter, before an actual smile, small as it was, crossed his face. The elf noticed Varric’s curiosity and held up the silver. “Ser Fannon claims that I am ‘hard to buy for’, so she offers to help pay for my pastries.”

 

“Alright, I _really_ like your Sooth-Sayer. She tried making horn balm!” The joyous tone from the big guy got all of them to turn. “Fuck, she even included her recipe in case of a bad reaction.”

 

“I like my bow better, but this Antiv-ie fire?! Damn!” Sera was standing up, looping the belt around the way she liked and moved off to see herself in the parlor mirror.

 

Vivienne was quiet, her polished nails stroking over her book, but her focus was on the letter. Varric watched quietly, but for once, he couldn’t get a set idea of the woman’s mood. There was the quick appeasement over the book, but something in the letter was unsettling, maybe even upsetting. Songbird could do that?

 

Presents handed out, the new folks went off to settle things. The day was still young as far as surprises went. Their next guest was none other than Grand Enchanter Fiona. She was rather desperate for the Inquisition to meet with the ‘peaceful’ rebel mages in Redcliffe, citing the demonic influence that had dug into the Templar so deeply. Fishie made a promise to meet, but no promise of aid. Which turned out to be good as the Templars from earlier arrived and also pleaded for aid. Here, Fishie said that the Templars must first find those that took in the Red lyrium. Only those not on lyrium were free to join, as soldiers, not as Templars. Barris, the dark Templar from the stage, asked for help in defeating those that took the lyrium. Fishie promised she would send her people to look into it.

 

_So far, no sides were chosen. Any advice on that front, Songbird?_

 

Varric tapped his pen against the small letter, trying to think of anything else to add for now. It’d been three days. The Chargers, minus Tiny, had taken ship the day after the meeting and were heading straight for Lake Calenhad to take the stream to Haven. Vivienne and Fishie were getting along swimmingly with the nobles. Between Ruffles’, Bull’s and Vivi’s information, they now had 5 high houses under the Inquisition’s belt. Turned out Sera’s rich tit was a damn child predator and _none_ of them had any trouble dispatching him. Fuck, Tiny had been the one to damn near twist his head off.

 

Now, it was the day before they all left. Madame McSmugbutt, as Varric now _mentally_ called her, had helped arrange a good sized ship for them. They’d be heading to Kirkwall (Varric massaged his heart for a moment) before heading down for the Storm Coast. Turns out Songbird’s warning about the scouts in the area had rung true. One was dead, two injured. A captive bandit had confirmed the need of a Crest before fighting the Captain. Fishie was more than miffed, though Varric wasn’t sure it was _all_ from of one of their own dying.

 

A sigh had the dwarf turn to the nearby elf mage as his head rose from his chest, eyes blinking open and squinting for a moment. “Welcome back to the waking world, Chuckles.” The elf adjusted his neck before unfolding himself from his meditative sitting arrangement. “Anything good in the Fade this afternoon?” The elf looked over to the far wall, checking on one of those rare ‘clocks’ that had started popping up in richer homes.

 

“Ah. That explains her reluctance for me to stay long. Fannon is unwell at the moment.” That got the dwarf’s full attention, turning to the mage as he reached for a pitcher of water. Varric briefly looked internally at why he was so quick to react. Yup, there were those family protecting instincts again. He barely knew the woman… well, shit. He knew more about the teacher than the Herald. Least Songbird _wanted_ to talk.

 

“It would seem she is experiencing her first blood moon in Thedas. She is unaccustomed to not having her ‘personal hygiene products’ and is missing her ‘hormone medication’. She opted for the witherstalk and blood lotus potion, but was unaware the effects. She is ‘ready to have a druffalo stampede put her out of her misery’.”

 

Varric gave a partly sad, but understanding nod. That potion would minimize a woman’s bleeding down to a single day, but that was because everything happened at once, 10 fold. Maker, Isabela had used it as ‘morning after a night of regret’. “Women are amazing to deal with that every month. Besides that, how was everything?”

 

“Haven is still growing, but Fannon’s foods are keeping many whole and warm. She asked us to look into ‘peanuts’ and more chickens.”

 

“What’s a peanut?” And Maker! How does the big brute come into a room so damn quiet? Bull was munching down on pear as he watched the two of them chat. Varric made it a point to move his letter out of view. Bull smirked when he did.

 

“Her vocabulary for the Antivian miseria, if her imagination was correct. The mages of Haven have started producing an abundance of food and she wishes to expand.” Solas addressed the Qunari without actually looking at him, which gave Varric a full view of the rather stiff hunch to the elf’s shoulders. “Fannon confirms that Leliana’s scouts in Kirkwall found the ‘Worthy’ dwarf before he had a chance to frame you for the murder, Varric.”

 

“So you do this ‘Fade’ talk with the little seer every night, mage?”

 

Varric lips pulled up a bit as he slid off his chair while Solas turned partially to the Qunari. The brute had been toeing the line with everyone. Innuendos around Fishie and the Seeker, questions about Kirkwall to Varric. Touching on his distrust of magic around Solas. He toed, but never crossed, and Varric was waiting for it.

 

“Indeed. Fannon has displayed great sensitivity, along with great acceptance, of magic. This is despite her country not experiencing it. Whilst in the Fade, her imagination is exceptionally powerful and she can display a number of her country’s differences. Between her visions of the future and advances of her culture, she has aided the Inquisition greatly.”

 

“Sounds like the mage has the hots. What’s Fannon look like? Boss said she looks noble, so I’m guessing curvy.”

 

Solas now turned completely to Bull, leading to Varric adjusting his gloves and angling himself forward a bit . That was not a healthy look in Chuckles’ eyes.

 

“Whatever Songbird _looks_ like, Tiny, I don’t think you should try that angle. For one, she’s not interested in tangoing. Never has been.”

 

That was _not_ the smile of a man who was dissuaded, damn it. Take the hint!

 

“Is it not true that under _the Qun_ , Qunari do not have romantic or even intimate relations with another?” Solas added his own touch, with alot more ‘snapping’ words than the dwarf was used to hearing from him.

 

Bull grinned-wait, nope. That was a show of teeth, meant to maybe intimidate. He palmed the rest of the pear as he casually stepped closer, lording his height over Chuckles before laughing. “Someone _does_ have the hots.”

 

“I do not. I do not wish Fannon to be _corrupted_ into a mindless _slave_ of the Qun.”

 

“Ah. Now I think I’m getting it. Alright, Solas, what’s so bad about the Qun?”

 

“Excuse me,” Marina stepped into the room, hands behind her back. Bull pops the pear back into his mouth, before turning to the Herald. Back to the casual, easy going merc. Varric could just see Solas’ fingers tighten for a moment before giving his attention too. “Now is not the time. Our ship is leaving earlier than expected, due to the weather. The Iron Bull, prepare anything you have left to do.” A quick squeeze of her eyes told him to do it _now_. Tiny waved with three fingers to his brow before leaving. “Everything is arranged for you two?”

 

“Yes, Herald. I have heard a request from Fannon, though. She has asked that we look into merchants that trade in miseria and chickens.” Solas’ cool nature was back.

 

Marina’s eyes and brows wrinkled for a moment in displeasure. Fishie wasn’t a huge fan of the way Solas and Songbird talked so often. Not like the warrior was interested in chewing the fat with the elf herself, though. “Did she mention why?”

 

“She spoke of a foodstuff, ‘peanut butter’, that could be used as a substitute for meat in travel. She mentioned ‘fried chicken’ as a new ‘calorie dense’ food for the refugees. She asked for chicks, if possible.”

 

Fishie turned and glared at a chair for a moment, before turning her face back, though her eyes didn’t meet the mage’s. “I will ask our new merchants to seek out the trade. However, I still prefer seeing these requests in writing. Next time you speak with her, remind her of that.” Marina turned on her heel and headed to the bathing room.

 

Damn, guess Varric had been spoiled by all of Songbird’s manners.

 

The Iron Bull tossed the rest of the pear core in the outside garden as he headed out for his tavern. It wasn’t a far walk and he had been completely packed for days. This arrangement was working out well already. Boss was a damn good fighter, even if she did buy _deep_ into the ‘sent from Andraste’ business. She had a good team with her so far, and with the new additions, they’d be even stronger. Bull could see the weaknesses though.

 

The mages were going to be at each others’ throats for ages. Different schools of magic learning along with the certainty that their way was the only way. The two elves would be just as snappy. Solas knew some _old_ shit and followed that while Sera tried to ignore anything ‘elfy’. Bull put it to the age difference. The Seeker was straight laced and wasn’t into humor, something Varric ate at. Blackwall tried to adjust himself around the others, but something felt off about the ‘Warden’. Well, beside the doe-eyes that he gave the red head every time he saw her.

 

Then there was Trevelyan herself. Boss was a noble, born and breed. Worse, she was a last born noble. That meant she was taught the same things over and over again. Manners, appearances, compromise to a degree. She wasn’t taught how to get _along_ with others, especially ‘underlings’. She and Ma’am had gone out for tea twice, taking either Cassandra or Blackwall with them. The two also shared long talks about how to fix the world, especially the magic parts. She and Cassandra share talks about religion and fighting styles while she tried picking the Warden’s brain about lots of general things.

 

She didn’t spend time with the elves, the dwarf, and she _loathed_ him of principle. Didn’t do _him_ any harm, but it could hurt a mission. A leader needed to know how their team worked, where best to put people at the least. One of the reasons he knew what his crew drank and who they fucked. The Herald wouldn’t be able to do that with everyone, but if this lot were to be her immediate crew…

 

He’d try to slip the suggestion in later, though he doubted she’d listen at the moment. Despite the hard work at helping others and her drive to be available to the ‘lessers’, she was enjoying her time as leader a bit much. That was from her being the last born; this was the first time she had received attention, most likely. She straightens her back and tossed her hair when others came for her input. Her chin tilted up when Blackwall flattered her. Her eyes flashed when the ideas of the Sooth-Sayer were brought up.

 

Bull paused outside the tavern, scanning slowly around. He noticed the Inquisition scouts working with the merchants, and the one that was sent to watch him only. Decent elf, good at hiding, he was only out at the moment to nod at Bull. The sign that his room had not been messed with.

 

Ah, the Sooth-Sayer. The reactions to her were mixed. Blackwall confessed to only knowing her for a day, but the man was nervous, curious, but definitely nervous. Cassandra was scared of _and_ for her and he wasn’t sure which way she leaned more on a given day. The Seeker spoke with a small bit of fondness for the woman, but great uneasy for her visions. Varric, true to the old reports from his life in Kirkwall, was a guardian, and seems to have taken on a ‘family’ air with her. He trusted her visions without complaint. Solas was trickier. Despite Bull’s attempts to get him riled, the Qunari still wasn’t sure if the mage’s protectiveness was family, like Varric, or of seeing her as an asset to be guarded. The Sooth-Sayer definitely sounded like an asset, and Bull wondered just how far reaching they went. For his own curiosity and the potential good and bad for the Qun.

 

Boss, the woman he was going to have to side with, disliked Fannon _and_ her visions. From the gathered bits and pieces of info, the woman was excitable, talkative, touchy and friendly. Boss was a person used to distancing themselves from many, likely even her own immediate blood. Fannon sounded like her opposite. Then there were the visions. Nearly everyone was ready to follow through on them, leaving Boss, to a degree, out of the decision making. Every time a vision or Fannon’s name was brought up, her eyes narrowed and she bared her teeth just slightly.

 

Bull looped his bag over his left shoulder, adjusting his axe behind his right as he paid off the room to head back to the others.

 

Bull had an in with the Sooth-Sayer though. He was the only one Fannon had contacted directly beforehand. He grinned a bit before swiping his tongue over his slightly longer canine. What had she seen in him that made her do so? He had a couple of _ideas_ of what it was, and he could play into a number of angles. Get Soothy on his side, and give the Boss a show, and he’d be set inside the Inquisition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Jaws music plays* The Bull sets his eye on a new target. Will the prey be able to escape in time?
> 
> ...Shoot, I almost feel bad for myself.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The inner Circle arrives back to Haven, and the Chargers are adorable pervs/

_**Bull had an in with the Sooth-Sayer though. He was the only one Fannon had contacted directly beforehand. He grinned a bit before swiping his tongue over his slightly longer canine. What had she seen in him that made her do so? He had a couple of ideas of what it was, and he could play into a number of angles. Get Soothy on his side, and give the Boss a show, and he’d be set inside the Inquisition.** _

 

 

 

Blood sprays along the ground, and the small dog cages, as weapons strike down the cheating leader of the Blades. Varric’s bolt had been the final wound for the man while Sera’s arrow took out the marbari that was trying to de-limb Solas. Everyone edged away from the overgrown man’s body, looking to the rest of the Blades. They moved toward the Herald, apologizing for carrying out the orders given to them and thanking her. Marina mediated well, as normal, getting the crew on her side while enforcing their faith.

 

Still, the Blades _were_ mostly humans.

 

Varric wondered why he kept noticing that trait. He’d been born and raised in Kirkwall. The dwarves had their own section of town, and he lived in both Low and High town technically. He’d been around the bigots and the neutrals of all the races. Welcomed by some, forgotten by others. So why was Fishie’s behavior bothering him?

 

“So, wait, you’re saying your Soothy’s country discovered these ‘germs’ are what can make people sick?” The graveled voice of The Iron Bull came from behind Varric. The dwarf set Bianca to rest before turning. Blackwall, Bull and Solas were standing together while the two warriors worked on cleaning their weapons with help from the rain.

 

“Indeed. Several of the habits and techniques that she spoke of have been used in Haven. The results of which have seen a decrease in sickness.” Solas offered, snapping his fingers again to redo his barrier. He was the only one keeping dry in this miserable place.

 

“Still want to know about this ‘magic book’ the advisors mentioned. Sounds like it’d be an interesting read.” Blackwall added before giving himself a shake. Long hair and beard made for an excellent rain catcher.

 

Bull ‘arg’ed at the idea of the magic book, but that didn’t stop him from asking a lot of questions. Still, least they knew he was a spy; made things easier about what to keep quiet.

 

“I believe it is something commonplace in her country. She has expressed a number of times that she is not wealthy in her nation.” 

 

“Still sounds like you’ve got the hots for her.” And there it was again. The asshole’s big grin made Varric want to join in the ribbing, but there was still the underlying worry for Fannon.

 

“I do not.” The elf mage answered before turning to move closer to the others.

 

Bull noticed him and winked, if one can wink with only one eye, before strolling over. “Boss is pretty badass with that mace, huh?” Good direction; weapons and tactics, always safe.

 

“Indeed, she is, Tiny. Doesn’t need to get winded while winding up for a shot, like someone here.” Varric smirked.

 

“And not all of us get it easy with pulling our girlfriend’s trigger from the back ranks.” Ha! The Qunari _did_ have jokes, the dwarf would give him that.

 

“Ouch,” Varric feigned a heart attack, bending at the waist.

 

“Too close to home?” Bull was still smiling, but that was more of a friendly grin vs. the smug shit he’d been pulling.

 

“No, it was good. I might have to keep that one. Work it into my next book about this mess.”

 

“I better see my name in the credits then.” 

 

****

 

The Storm Coast was finally behind them and they were all hoping to be dry by the end of the week. It was still really impressive how all of them had mounts now, thanks to Songbird’s insistence. Buttercup was scared shitless of her Orlesian Courser, though the mare was rather friendly. Fuck, they were even a Qunari-breed, well, bred for the Qunari, from Rivain, set up for Bull. Solas had a new guy, called a Hart, that took to him instantly. Couldn’t tell what the elf was saying to the creature, but the mage definitely respected the beast.

 

Steppers, Varric's little pony, was not a fan of the weather, and kept acting like he wanted to run off to lead. “Hey, I don’t like the rain either, bud, but we aren’t the boss in this.” Varric pet the rain soaked mane of his boy, grinning as the gelding shook his head and nickered.

 

“So, Herald, you good, right? Got the magics and Templars dead in the Hint’lands. Got the nobs in Orlais lickin’ at yours heels,” Sera then looks over to a _still_ posh looking Madame De Fer. How the Iron Lady did it, Varric had no clue.

 

“Fancy tits had to glue herself in yeah,” Sera said with a grimace and a chuckle. “But you good. Inquisition good too, but what about after? No bandits, no demon spitting arseholes. What’s Andraste’s Herald do for giggles?”

 

“Sera, are you asking what I do for fun when we aren’t helping the world?” Fishie asked in a bored voice. The bubbly elf had been a bit hard to keep mental track of.

 

“Wat I said, in’t it?” 

 

“Not at all, Sera.” Seeker offered with a tired sneer.

 

“I enjoy reading, fishing, and practicing my combat skills.” Fishie offered as she whipped her hair around to wring it out for the fifth time. Bull made a show of watching the hair.

 

“Pssspt, wat? No drinks? No dancing? What about your bed, uhhhhh? Who follows you there?” Sera made her own show of leaning toward the Herald, pushing up her limited bosom.

 

“My bed fellows, past or future, are not up for discussion, Sera. Leave it.” Marina snapped her teeth with a click, nudging her mare a bit faster.

 

Sera humphed and snarled under her breath, ‘Wat’s point savin the world if you don’t get some fun?”

 

Ah, that might be it. Why Fishie’s behavior was more noticeable to Varric than other uptight humans. It was because he was used to the Hero of the story wanting to have some fun and friends. Marina acted like she just wanted to get things done and out of the way.

 

****

 

Could the Warden be any more obvious with the, ‘Need help with your weapons, M’lady’ crap? Varric was finishing toweling his hair mostly dry as he saw the two wander off a bit. Still in range of sight, but come on! Get creative with your sneaking away.

 

“So the Inquisition has no _Inquisitor_? How do you guys function without a proper leader?” Bull asked Cassandra as the two split cooking duties. Turns out Bull could cook, and Cassandra couldn’t, so she was getting lessons.

 

“We have a number of people, working towards a common goal. It is enough.” Cassandra offers while mimicking Bull’s knife cuts on a spare onion they had.

 

“For now, but if the Inquisition is going to be around after the Hole gets fixed, people are going to want to see a figurehead. To throw praise or blame at.”

 

“Surely the Inquisitor should be the Herald then. Who better to lead the army of faithful than Andraste’s chosen, after all?” Madame McSmugFace asked while putting on her sleeping mask. Looked like some sludge from Darktown if you asked Varric.

 

“One would hope that the Inquisition is out to help all of Thedas. Not simply those of the Andrastian faith. If we were to listen to Andraste’s chosen, Ser Fannon could also be seen as a leader.” Solas mused aloud as he flared up the fire, making sure a good crust got on their rabbits.

 

“Songbird would wilt if we put her on a pedestal, Chuckles. Give her some kids to teach and she’s as happy as a moth in a bookstore.” Varric tossed his towel into the tent he’d be sharing with Chuckles again.

 

“Sounds like she’d be a great _Tama_.” Bull muttered, just loud enough to be heard.

 

“Lady Fannon will _not_ turn to the Qun.” Solas almost snapped at the brute as the gray man set the vegetable mix into the stew pot.

 

“Why don’t you let the woman speak for herself?” Bull flashed his teeth again.

 

Maker, did Varric want some Crystal Grace right about now.

 

****

 

So, pros of Fishie: Good in a fight, doesn’t mind running head first into trouble, good with negotiations and getting people to work with her.

 

Cons included: “No, Varric. I have never had a taste for ale. I prefer wine.”

 

“No, Varric. I have read _The Tale of the Champion_ but not your others.”

 

“You’re actually the first dwarf I’ve ever met, Varric. Are most dwarfs like you?”

 

Maker help him, he needed three ales at the inn that night.

 

“I’m just saying, magic has caused a lot of problems in the world.” Bull was arguing over in the corner, with Sera nodding and giving noises of agreement.

 

“The Iron Bull, there are a number of things that cause trouble in the world. I do not see magic as the all or nothing monstrosity that you do. My brother was a mage; gaining his powers at 11 while accidently setting my teddy bear on fire. I never blamed him, it was an accident. He spent his time in the Circle trying to find an answer to possession. He never tried to use his powers to harm others. As I understand it, most mages don’t.” Marina countered while sitting straight, her back to the fire.

 

“All it takes is one. One sneaky witchy mage to burn a town.” Sera grumbled from the Bull’s shoulders. Those two really were getting along well.

 

“And all it takes is one person, a spy perchance, to take down an organization. Mages will be welcomed in the Inquisition, and that is my final word on the matter.” Trevelyan took her glass and bottle and moved over to the reading corner of the inn, sitting across from Cassandra.

 

Pro: No problems with mages.

 

***

 

“Madame de Fer, you mentioned your connections with mages at the Ostwick Circle. Was my brother ever mentioned?”

 

Varric yawned atop Steppers as they rode closer to Haven. Ugh, Fishie had a mind like a bear trap for details, but she sure could small talk you to death. The two had been going over a dozen of Vivienne’s connections all morning. Varric had noticed a distinct lack of Kirkwall or Ferelden connections though.

 

“It would appear we will arrive without fanfare this time.” Solas commented as they rounded the bend to see the lake below. Varric blinked, raising his hand to shield his eyes. No … that can’t

 

“Is Curly fighting Songbird?!”

 

****

 

“Have I mentioned how much I _hate_ you today?” I grumbled as I rub my back. Ugh, morning run plus horse lessons, my writing and reading lessons are now general etiquette lessons (like seriously, I’m learning The Game already. UGHHHHHHHH), my class, lunch and now, normally, flexibility training with Cullen while my babies work with the soldiers and the Chargers. The 49 mercs were surprisingly good with kids for the most part. Course, now the assholes were tossing coin around on how fast Cullen whoops me today.

 

“I’m afraid hearing the same complaints every day for three weeks makes them lose their edge.” The blond sasses again as he sets his Commander’s fluffy and armor off to the side. Just him in a long sleeve off-white tunic... which does _not_ help my enjoyment of his physique. Plus the puppy dog personality… no, _no_ shipping with the Commander. I am not of Thedas and he needs a Thedas woman.

 

I flip him a bird as I toss my green overcoat over his fluffy, just to prove a point. That gets a few catcalls so I flip a bird behind me too. Mockingjay and Krem are not helping! “So, we just going over the martial arts I know again?”

 

“Yes. For not being a fighter yourself, the arrangements you remember have been helpful.” Cullen moved closer to our fighting ‘box’, just a few toe lines in the newly growing grass, and put his hands up like a boxer.

 

“Alright, so again, my class was focused on joints while I attended.” I reach over and tap on each joint of his fingers, thumb, wrist and to his elbow. “All our joints are used to moving in certain ways. Grab me, please.” I offer up my wrist to the Commander which he quickly takes in a very… firm… fuck I can see him flex through the damn shirt. 

 

Dear _Lord_ , I have a problem.

 

“So, based on what you know of people, how do you expect me to try to get away?”

 

“Most would try to pull in the opposite direction.”

 

 I nod and pull toward my body, while he pulls toward his. Making a stalemate.

 

“Right, and you would win, because you’re stronger than me. But,” I twist my wrist so the outside part of my hand, my pinkie’s side, faces his thumb. I curl my imprisoned hand into a fist, grab onto it with my other hand and duck into Cullen. My wrist, now with my weight pushing his thumb in the wrong direction, pops free. I then whip shot the back of my fist at his nose, making sure I stop. “I can use the fact that joints like to move in certain ways against you.” We go back to our sides, and Cullen shakes his hand out. “But I don’t need to work your joints to win. I can use other forces.” I give him my back and thumb at my ponytail. “Grab hold, please.”

 

“Nah, that’s a bedroom move, Lady Seer.” I roll my eyes hard at Mockingjay as Cullen takes hold. Poor Chantry boy has to clear his throat, a sure sign he’s blushing. Dawwww!

 

“I’ll Lady my foot straight up y’all’s keysters if I have to. Ok so~, ‘oh no! A bad guy has my hair!’” I _drop_  down and back, part way, yanking Cullen’s arm down while also getting part of my head into his gut. He dropped me in an instant. “Of course, in a real fight, all of this is difficult because we naturally move certain ways to danger. So it’d be your job to teach people to overcome their first instincts.”

 

“Like letting a cute woman go back to her cabin _all_ alone.” 

 

Oh, that’s it. I’m up and marching over to Marcus, Mockingjay’s real name, and slap him a dozen times on the shoulder. All a game though; I adore all the new Chargers I’ve gotten to know. 

 

“You. will. stay. quiet. or. I’ll. ask. Kremy. to. prop. perly. beat. You.” The humongous half-Avaar redhead playfully winces at each slap before I thump him lightly on the head for extra measure, returning to Cullen. “The only thing is you and I aren’t a good training match. You have strength in the upper body, but I have weight all over.”

 

“I still don’t understand how that is a problem, though I will once again compliment you on your weight loss.” 

 

And more cat calls. The Commander does glare this time, getting Krem to call them all off properly.

 

“Thank you, Commander. And I can show you the problem. First off, no fists while we wrassle, and please stay away from my face. Agreed?” I wait for his nod before I duck low and springboard into his knees. They cave in a moment and Cullen falls over on his side. I get him in a headlock while keeping my fat ass on his side. “Try getting up, Commander.”

 

Cullen scoffs for a moment and moves to get his knees under him. I switch my hips a bit, dropping my larger middle section over his pelvis and pin him right back down. He growls this time, moving his hands up for my hold, but I partly swing up and plant my foot on his wrist. Now the hard part starts as he tries to roll us both over. I squeeze at the bottom of his head, so I don’t cut off his air, but still keep ahold of him. “Maker’s Breath,” He sighs as he pants for a bit.

 

“Yup, you can’t lift my fat ass, Cullen.”

 

And lo, he growls at me! Like actually mad growls, not I’m now determined growls. I eep as his arm swings around and grabs the back of my right knee, pinning my leg to his back. He uses the lack of weight at his hips to get his knees up. With a battle cry, he stands up, dropping me into the dirt and little rocks. 

 

I am stunned!

 

“Lady Fannon, are you alright?” Cullen goes from badass to puppy in moments. He’s kneeling down next to me now, looking over for... injuries maybe.

 

“EEEEEEEE!” I squeal while flailing around like a damn ninny in celebration. “Holy shit that was amazing!” I roll over and hop up, glomping on to the surprised Commander. “You picked me up! You! Picked me! Up!” I bounce while holding onto his forearms. “That was so awesome! Friggin incredible, Cullen!”

 

“Yo-you’re sure you’re not hurt at all?” Cullen’s all blushy again. OHHHH, I squish him some more. Quick though, since we are drawing a group besides the Chargers.

 

“Oh, not a bit. Not a bit. Good lord almighty, I can’t believe you can do that, even for a moment.” I grin at his still red face then I give him a brush down before myself. I make a show of patting my still large tummy. “I mean, look at all this, and you got up from being _on the ground_! So cool!”

 

“Hate to interrupt this little match, my lady, but I can see our big brute of a Chief up there on the way in.” Krem offers with a grin as the guys all turn to look behind me and cheer.

 

I pout, and maybe whine a bit.

 

“Are you sure it was a wise idea to enlist this Iron Bull? You’ve already said that you can’t be around him.” Cullen looks at me worried, resting his hand on my shoulder. I try to smile at him.

 

“I’m not worried about Bull himself. I’m worried about what he’ll read on me. But you’ve already seen how his boys work. It’s all going to be good in the long run.” I give Cullen a quick neck hug, while he pats my back, before turning to Krem. “The betting time doesn’t start until he’s in Haven proper, gents. And I still get 5%.”

 

The Chargers whoop and I get a few noogies as they head back to their tents to get ready for Bull. I move to head for home when Grim stops me with a ‘hm’. I turn to him and he’s holding a cute package, but it looks like a clothes bag. “You want me to have Grim?” He grunts again, but it’s not a full confirming sound as he taps his finger on the paper. “Oh, you want me to wear it now?” That gets the quiet blond to nod and tap a finger to his nose before turning to Krem. I look down at my package… having a very bad feeling. The Chargers have good fun ribbing me so I’m betting this is another piece. I shrug and head for my cabin, sure I’ll get called on for a War Meeting later.

 

****

 

The Inner Circle watched the small match from their mounts, Varric cheering at the different holds Songbird got out of. She did have a few surprises in her.

 

“That’s her, huh?” mused Bull as he watched the match. She had the right idea, get low on your opponent. If the other had been expecting her, though, he wouldn’t have been knocked down so easily. More telling, though, was the reaction from his men during the fight. His boys cheered the Sooth-Sayer on, but when she came over to smack Mockingjay, he had his answer. His crew liked her. Still, was interesting. She hadn’t turned around when Krem motioned their arrival to her. She’d done a small head turn but stopped before she made any kind of eye contact. Then she walked away, present from Grim, to the tree line. So why wasn’t she rushing forward to welcome the Inquisition back?

 

“Rwoar, did you see the size of her ditties?!” Sera was half off her horse while looking down on the yard. “Bet one can have some real fun with those, yeah?”

 

Bull noted the quick bursts of attention and tension. Varric just barely angled himself to be in front of the elf. Protective. Blackwall cleared his throat and looked away. Noticed and liked them, but not interested in her. Cassandra made her disgusted grunt of annoyance. Ma’am tut’ed. Also annoyed. Solas’ grimaced, just not liking Sera in general. Boss had a similar face, but the dislike was toward Fannon, not just Sera.

 

“Sure, but you’re not looking at her legs, Sera. Long limbs like that, around your waist, you aren’t going anywhere for awhile.” Bull responded, getting just about the same reactions from all. What he really noticed was how touchy the woman was. Play slaps to his boy, hugs all over the sparring partner. All the information was logged away.

 

“Psst, my face? In that chest? I’d drown happy.” Sera laughed while kicking her horse forward.

 

“Do not go chasing after Fannon, Sera. We have meetings to attend.” Cassandra called out before she got too far, earning a ‘Piss!’ from the elf.

 

****

 

Fuck

 

Me

 

With a rusting coat hanger… I hate them.

 

Oh, do I hate them sonsabitches _so_ much right now. I’m standing here in my towel, my second bath of the day done, looking at Grim’s present… How did they even get my new measurements?  I look down at the unfolded parchment around the Chargers’ dress.

 

A very, very pink dress… and here I was suspecting that Bull liking pink was just to mess with Blackwall.

 

Fuckers know I’m a fan of them. I had come running, EEE-ing my head off as they arrived in Haven two weeks ago. I’d glomped the shit out of Krem; luckily the Vint had been warned about me. Half of them joined me on my runs, played with my students, and let me join in the fun. I don’t remember _who_ now, but someone asked if I was excited to meet Bull, and I had to tell them all that it was actually dangerous for us to know each other. Cue _much_ ribbing, mostly around Bull’s sexual exploits, and the bet of ‘How long can the Sooth-Sayer avoid the Chief’. And now they get me a dress…

 

Yup, my first murder is on the table.

 

I mean, it’s a nice dress. Fairly high collar with a small v cut at my voice box made up of a darker pink that also makes up my wrists. The lighter pink flows down to the hem while I have a rather detailed patterned tightener of super pale pink at the waist. Very modest, which is what I’m suppose to be as ‘a Lady’.

 

Oh my flippin’ God, why did I agree to be a Lady now? I am not a Lady, you be cursed Antvian, though I adore your tinyness.

 

I growl the whole time I put it on, then I catch myself in my new-ish foot high mirror.

 

Friggen DAWWWWW, I look cute! I giggle as I spin myself around, making the skirt plume out. I feel so girly. Fuck, I even pop my foot up and ‘hehe’ for a second.

 

I jump as my outside the ward bell rings, meaning I have a visitor. Checking myself, and slapping my hand for acting goofy, I look outside. Aaron waves and points back into town. I smile, nod and get my belt and purse. I growl at my boots as I pull them on. For some reason, my foot has started giving me the slip again. I hate my ankle.

 

~~~

 

_I know you want it in the worst way_

_I wanna hear you calling my name_

_Like hey mama mama hey mama mama (Hey)_

 

I grin as I walk to the beat in my ears, thumbing through two different notebooks I’ve been keeping. What I knew before I arrived in Thedas in my left hand, What I’ve changed in my right. I spin out of the way of a pair of running youngins as I pass my farm and open the Chantry door with my hip. 

 

_Be my woman, girl, I'mma_

_Be your man_

_Be my woman, girl, I'll_

_Be your man_

 

I snap the books shut and belt them, taking my headphones off and turning off my ipod before purse-ing them. Ok, I can get through this meeting. Not like Bull or Madam McSmugbutt are going to be here, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have returnnnnnnnned. Month of July is upon us, anddddd I COMPLETED A CHAPTER OF MY FALLOUT! FUCK YOU WRITER'S BLOCK AND ALL YOUR DAMN DRAMA.
> 
> Nothing much to add at this time. Please see the following link for Fannon's new dress.
> 
> https://www.nexusmods.com/dragonage2/mods/2345/
> 
> What is a green dress in those pictures is what I imagined it being. I need tips for describing clothing. Please and thank you.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The meeting begins, and things go about as well as Fannon's pessimism of herself allows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? I'm posting on a Friday? I'm posting TWO CHAPTERS?! Am I sick? Nope, it's just I noticed that the way I have my chapters split up, the meeting with Bull wouldn't end until September, and that's a long wait for these shenanigans. Also, this is partly a celebration of the 4th, a USA holiday. 
> 
> Also, for alllll readers, be on the look out for clues. Somethings are here as clues, but some missing things are also clues. Keep your eyes open, and your notebooks handy.

**_ Ok, I can get through this meeting. Not like Bull or Madam McSmugbutt are going to be here, right? _ **

 

 

I walk in casually, noting that Varric is right in front of me with Cassandra at his right side, leaving me his left. I notice Blackwall and Marina at the left head of the table Leliana, Cullen, and Josie in their normal places. Sera’s by Josie and Vivienne and Solas are at the right end of the table… so where is-

 

“Behind y-”

 

“ **JESUS CHRIST**!!” I immediately collapse onto the stone floor, arms thunking hard on the table. In the _moments_ that it takes for me to freak out and thump, my brain recognizes a few things. One, knees on solid stone floors hurt like hell. Two, I know from two and a half syllables just who is behind me. Three, how in _the_ fuck did he scare me that bad?

 

“HeheheEEEEEEEE”

 

 _Fuck me_!

 

I dive under the table completely as my giggles start.

 

I am very quickly joined by a number of other laughs. Varric’s barking, Cullen’s snorts, Josie’ thehehes are joined by Blackwall’s smoker’s honk and Sera’s nasally hehehens. I’m pretty sure that pounding on the table above me is Bull because of the weight and the rumbling hoots.

 

A broad hand pats me on my calf in comfort. “Maker, Songbird. You’ve got the best damn laugh!”

 

“And-heheeeeee, and he’s fucking huge. How-owow ow! How does he surprise me-eeeeee? Oh look, giant horned man, sneaks up on squishy Seer woman.” A honk passes my nose and I just stay ducked underneath the table.

 

“What’s that? A human tea kettle? This Inquisition s’got everything.” Sera was joining in with some honks.

 

“I’ll be good. Give me 5 minutes eeeee, shit.” Damnit, this was not the first impression I wanted to make.

 

Everyone else calms down fairly quick. Varric pats my calf regularly as they talk about the goings on in Haven first. Nobles we made friends with, refugees who have joined. I know the dance because I’ve been here for the whole damn thing. I wiggled myself backwards from under the table, reaching up to try standing. “Ok, just, nobody look at me for like 5 minutes. I can tip back over pretty easily.” I rub up and down my right arm. Friggin funny boned it on the way down.

 

“Quite the first impression,” Cassandra remarks blandly looking me over from the corner of my eye. Well, thanks Cassie. There’s another shot in the damn self-esteem. ‘Hey, Fannon, you looked like an idiot just now.’

 

“Can’t help my giggles, Cassie. And you got to admit, getting scared by a giant who’s simply standing behind you _is_ funny.” I give Bull a wave over my shoulder. “I’m sure it’s even easier to scare people when he’s _trying_.”

 

“Yup.”

 

Ohhhhhh, fuck me. His voice sounds lower than I remember. Curse my ears. I finally look up and around at the new people. Sera’s taller than I expected, but the sloppy haircut and kinda big for her face nose are as I remember. I notice that Madame de Fer’s age is more noticeable in person. She was at least Varric’s age, I think. She’s pretty on the outside, I’ll give her that.

 

“Hi Sera. Sorry if I end up weirding you out. I’m not a mage though.”

 

“Still creepy!” The elf snaps, arms folded across her chest. I grin evilly and look down to Varric.

 

“And I haven’t even done anything yettttt.”

 

“Evil Songbird? That’s different.” Varric smiles at me. I give a little squeal and lean down to kiss his hair. “Still sweet as a toothache.”

 

“You shush. I missed you guys. Tell me about Kirkwall over drinks later.” I look to Vivienne and bow gently in my best Orlesian fashion. “Madame Vivienne.” I wave over my shoulder quickly. “Hi Bull. So! What’s to talk about?”

 

“The Envy demon,” Cassandra growls low, and both she and Marina are peeved.

 

“Let’s look at it this way; Would you really have been happier knowing _who_ you were going to face beforehand? Would you have hesitated? Would people have been hurt if you delayed? The thing about Envy is that he/it gets the mannerisms of a person down well. If I told you who to look for, wouldn’t you have been looking for differences from real to demon to see if I was right?”

 

“By not informing us beforehand, you minimized the chance that we would fall into the demon’s trap.” Solas offered, to which I snap my fingers and point in his direction.

 

“Are we to expect more surprises in the future?” Trevelyan is grumpy again, and I may slightly scooch closer to Varric. Just a hair.

 

“Well, there’d be more of them if I wasn’t here, right… okay, jokes are bad.” Nudge over again, closer to the dwarf as the noble woman glares. “But, hm, for Cassie’s sake, I remember where the real Lord Seeker is. He is at Caer Oswin, or at least he will be.” I look to Leliana for this one. “We should get a scout there as soon as possible. The Lord Seeker is or will be doing some bad experiments and I would like to save Daniel.”

 

“Daniel?!” Cassie looks worried and frantic… and _still_ somehow wanted to kill me!

 

“Hm! The Lord Seeker is going to get a lot of the Seekers up to Caer Oswin. I would love to interrupt what happens and save as many Seekers as possible.”

 

“We still must be cautious, Cassandra.” Leliana redirects a little. “Whatever Fannon knows, we also know it is neither set in stone, nor has a set time. We might not find the Lord Seeker for months.” I grumble faced, partly because I hate how correct she is and partly because slamming my knees and arms has done something to my neck. I try to fix it.

 

“Another question: You said that even if we hadn’t taken on the demon, we would meet him another time. When was that?” Trevelyan is somewhat watching me, but she keeps looking at Blackwall from the corner of her eye… or am I imagining things?

 

“I also mentioned the depends part, right? The ‘depends’ is on the Inquisition’s choice of _who_ helps you close the Breach. I have seen both… well, rewind, ah, back up.” I make a roll back motion and grr slightly again. Pinched nerve? “The way I’ve always seen it, is that you have to pick. If you go with mages, the Templars get all ‘Ohhhh the Inquisition only cares about giving the dirty rebels’ blaghhhh and etc. Go with the Templars … and the Vints move in.” That got some attention, and I ‘epp’ at the deep growl coming from my back. Fuck, I think I can feel it through my feet.

 

“To be fair, and transparent, Mages are second or even third-class citizens in most of the South. From what I’ve ‘heard’,” I gesture to the middle of my forehead, “Most mages just want a chance to be hu-sentient beings. OHMYFLIPPINGLORD I need a different word.”

 

“Mages are creepy!” Sera half snaps, and I mentally sigh at the agreement I see in Cullen and hear from Bull.

 

“A moment,” Leliana looks me up and down in the calculating way I hate. I may have grabbed a handful of my dress to play with between my fingers. “I believe we must recognize something. We have been talking about the mages and Templars for some time now. You have given us evidence of what will happen with our actions, but I do not believe we have heard your _opinion_ on the matter, Lady Fannon.” My face falls into my ‘dude, seriously?’ droop. Think Po when Tai Lung calls him fat.

 

“Okay, first, we’ve talked about calling me Lady _any_ thing in private. Two, I doubt you want to hear the opinion of an old crazy cat lady in terms of Thedosian politics. Three,”

 

“Old crazy cat lady?” Varric is laughing under his breath. “What are you, 25?”

 

I blink, at least 3 times quietly before looking at everyone. “Have I… seriously not told you how old I am yet?”

 

The Hydra looks at each other, Josie looking particularly appalled. Varric looks over at Solas, but _Hahren_ cocks his head slightly.

 

“Cullen,” the blond looks back to me. “Do you turn 30 this year or have you already?”

 

“How do… nevermind. I will be turning 30 in three months’ time.”

 

“So, I’m _more_ than two years older than you. Hot damn!” I beam, watching as the Commander looks like he’s swallowed a bee. “Ba~by Cullen.”

 

“There is no way you’re that old, Songbird.” Varric looks nearly as stunned. I raspberry for a second before reaching up into the folds of my hair. I part the right side and lean over him, knowing I have a strong grouping of snow-white hair there. “By Andraste’s ass.” He runs his thumb over the nesting.

 

“To be fair, I did start going white fairly early. 20 ish and it’s still pretty easy to hide with how thick my hair is and how I wear it… and now I’ve messed up my braid.” I sigh and swing my hair over my shoulder, untying it, one of my last elastics in between my tee…

 

Only to jump as two very big gray fingers nudge into my field of view, wiggle in the ‘give it to me’ motion and take my hair away. Like seriously, my index and pinkie wrapped together make _one_ of his fingers. “Since when have you known how to braid hair, _boyo_? You’re bald.” That gets a quick, deep laugh as the rest of the pleats are undone and smoothed back into order.  I spit my tie onto my pinkie before I dig into my purse quickly and pull out my emergency comb. The fact that he’s scooping up loose hair right from my crown seems to have gotten everyone’s attention.

 

“Nah, shaved. Qunari grow hair at a slower rate than humans. Get it lopped off once and it takes a good year to get peach fuzz growing.” Ok interesting things of note. One, Freddie Prinze was right on the money for most of Bull’s voice. The rhyme and dialect are there, but the real Bull is _definitely_ lower in bass. There goes a back shiver. Two, while I can’t see him, I can feel most of his movements and I think I might be mid-chest on him. Three, slow hair growth…

 

“Ohhhhh,” I snap my fingers as I think it over. “That’s why I’ve always seen you with a short beard. Takes too long to grow out.” The fingers come into my side view again and I put the tie on one.

 

“Wait… what is this?” I can hear the little band stretch, before it goes sailing across the table, popping Sera in the shoulder. 

 

“Oy, watch it, ya big-horned tit!”

 

Cue my snorting, hard.

 

“Sorry-eee. No! no no no no. I won’t do it.” I grrr and bite my lip as the ring is tossed back over. I pass it back to Bull. I feel my eye twitch as my neck stiffens again. Fuckin’ hell. “It’s a material that’s very common in my home country. Elastic. I am still looking to make it, but some of my words aren’t in your Common yet. Which means _trying_ to make it is a pain in the ass. Oh!” I start bouncing on my toes, even as Bull beginnings redoing his work. “And y’all found peanuts! Oh, the things I can do with peanuts: peanut oil, peanut butter, and then we can grind them up and-”

 

Bull gives my hair a small pull. “Be still.”

 

“Yes’m” I go rimrod still, hands even clapping at my hips, like a little kid. Varric laughs, hard, the ass.

 

“Oh shit, that’s all we’ve got to do to get you to hold still?”

 

“Youuuu can’t crush my head like a watermelon, shortstack.”

 

“What’s that?” Bull asks just as my hair drops, perfectly braided again. My comb is passed back. And I still haven’t looked at him; I am very proud of myself. I fish for my notebook and add a note about translating watermelons, just before my neck decides to continue to be evil. I vocalize my grumpiness this time, because whatever is wrong with me is sending new tingles down my arm.

 

“Dana, while that was a very good attempt, I will not allow you deflect from the question, again.” Leliana goes that cool ‘you’ve disappointed me’ mom voice that instantly makes me feel tiny. I stare down at my feet while gripping my dress. Nightingale calls me out on that side of me alot; my defenses crumble in Thedas.

 

“You don’t need my opinion. I mean, at least half of you would hate it anyway… my opinion doesn’t,”

 

“Your opinion _does_ matter, Lady Fannon. You are a part of the Inquisition, as you have been since the beginning.” Josie’s calm voice has me peeking up from my boots. The faces of the others, especially Trevelyan’s, has me looking down again. _No, your opinions don’t matter_. Shut up, depression! My hands tighten on my dress, rolling the nice new material. I’ll have to compliment the guys; it’s very nice stuff.

 

“Please Dana,” Leliana asks again, that same voice that she’s learned I respond to better.

 

All my carefully constructed arguments, detailed lists of pros and cons, information that the group doesn’t yet have, is _not_ want comes out of me. I fucking word vomit while watching my boots.

 

“I would ally with the mages in Redcliffe. I… don’t like the Templar order in general, because of the things I’ve seen. It’s… also one of the reasons I don’t like the Chantry very much.” I brace myself tight, expecting loud complaints from those around the table. I definitely hear Trevelyan start, but someone must have stopped her. “The Chantry reminds me of my home country’s religions in some ways. They preach the inclusion of all, but humans, for still lack of a better word, use it and twist them to exclude others. No gays, or people liking the same gender. No this person or that person and definitely don’t agree with some other religion that has splintered off from your own. They try to define all the little differences of people without realizing the same bits. So-So many people… hate what’s different.” I chew on my lip and squeeze on my wrist. “Who the hell decides someone or something is different? Who the hell has that right? Why do the different have to suffer de-humanizing? Did any mage _ask_ to have their powers? No, and none of them would if it was a choice. No one would _choose_ to be part of a group that is hated.”

 

“And why are they hated? Isn’t one of the laws of the Chantry ‘Magic was made to serve man, not to rule over him’? Magic is to serve man, magic is to help man! It says it right there in your doctrine! Serve, not lock away in a tower. Not to be feared like some god-blessed Pitch Black Boogeyman. Look at what my babies do. We’re feeding Haven.”

 

“Oh, they could be possessed by a demon. What the fuck is the Harrowing for? Madame Vivienne did her Harrowing and then she turned everything on its head. She’s got her Duke, her position at court. Hell, she essentially the stepmother-in-law to Grand Duke Gaspard. Why can’t other mages have the same chances? Get the school, pass the Harrowing, go back out into the world and work as normal people. Have Templars be tenant officers, check on mages once every three months.

 

“Oh, but mages can burn down villages. Oh, it just takes one mage to-so fucking what? That’s fucking profiling! That’s making snap judgements on a narrow field of _possible_ characteristics. It’s being a goddamn bigot!” I’m shaking, I’m cold and I want to stop. But I have to explain, if I don’t explain people won’t understand me. Am I making sense? I cast a rather desperate look to Varric, and find the dwarf calmly smiling at me. He offers up his gloved hand and I snap on to it, so damn glad for the support. “No group of people is perfect, but we shouldn’t judge everyone by the crimes of a few. You can’t say that about Templars either, but we have a saying. ‘Absolute power corrupts absolutely. The Seekers were supposed to keep Templars in check, right? So, think about this; If a mage comes running up to a Seeker, saying they’ve been raped by every Templar in the Circle, but the Templars band together and say it’s not true, would there be an investigation? I doubt it, because the Seekers don’t have a mage voice in the ranks. Varric, that Templar in Kirkwall? The one that petitioned for all mages to be tranquil? Elric?”

 

“Alrik, Songbird.” Varric’s face pulled tight, guessing where I was going.

 

“That sonofabitch preyed on female mages. The _slightest_ perceived infraction and they were made Tranquil. And they were kept around him, _his_ Tranquils. That’s disgusting! Ask the two mages in the room what form of punishment for a heinous act they would like. If mages as a collective tell you they’d rather be dead than Tranquil, _that should fucking tell you Tranquility is a bad thing_! Tranquility isn’t for the benefit of mages, it’s for the benefit of their leashers. Tranquils can’t say no, to pain, pressure, violation of any kind. They are talking and walking zombie _slaves_. You know, for all the Qun and South’s complaints about Tevinter, y’all sure don’t mind magical slaves… this... this argument sounds so much better on my papers. I had it planned out so nicely. Can I stop now, please?” Varric’s hand squeezes mine again and I actually feel a broad hand give me a little pat pat on my head. “The main point is… no one _asks_ to be different from the norm. Most… I’m sure most of us would _love_ to be normal. But we can’t. We can’t be normal, just like Leliana can’t suddenly be blonde, Varric can’t be 6 feet tall and Bull can’t regrow his eye. We _can’t_ change… and we shouldn’t be punished for the fact.”

 

Everyone stays quiet for a bit longer. Well, not me. I start whining softly the second I realize everyone was going to stay quiet. “Easy, Songbird. Come here,” I look to the open arms of the dwarf and drop to my knees and _cling_ to him. I am shaking like a goddamn leaf in his arms.

 

“Thank you for your opinion, Fannon.” Leliana, cool as fucking ever, remarks from the other side of the table.

 

“I promise, I have all these lists of pros and cons written down that sound much better. Please tell me I made some sense.”

 

“You did.” Oh-k, chipped voice from Cullen. Not good. “Though, the idea of who to call on for help with the Breach would best be done in a longer meeting. Perhaps tomorrow, after everyone is rested.”

 

Well, shit. I’m not being dismissed? Not even by Mr. Mages aren’t people and Ms. Seekers of Holy Order? What magic has Josie spun while my eyes were down? I take one more big breath and move to stand up, giving Varric one more kiss to his hair and thanking him.

 

“I’m... very sure that my actions have got our new members curious. Questions and Answers now or later?” My fingers rewrap into my dress.

 


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting concludes on a surprising note. Also, always mind what you say when someone starts asking questions.

**_ “I’m... very sure that my actions have got our new members curious. Questions and Answers now or later?” My fingers rewrap into my dress. _ **

 

 

“Just where you from?” Sera is sneering at me, looking between the advisors and older members. Probably wanting to know if this was normal for me.

 

“My country is known as America. The problem is, none of us have been able to figure out where I might be in relation to the known countries of Thedas.”

 

“All your women like you? Crazy, cryin’ weird ideas ‘bout magics?”

 

“Well, my culture’s idea about magic is different than Thedas. In literature, it’s great. Practiced by people, it’s nonsense and stupid and the person trying needs to be committed for insanity. My culture has a lot of hypocrisies. I’m different in my own culture, yes.”

 

“What about the big ditties?” Sera was now very pointy looking at my chest.

 

The number of gasps at her boldness made my ears ring and I had to blink for about two full seconds… before I crashed again. “Hheheheheeeeeeeee!” (“There she goes again,” from Varric) I slam back down on my knees, which does _not help_ my neck pain _,_ feeling a boot nudge me in the back so I’m at least kneeling upright. “Finally! Someone just came out and _asked_!” My fist pounds on the table as I laugh. A few puffed out breaths and I look around the table. Just about everyone is a little red, but Varric has joined me in laughing. “Oh, sweet merciful Jesus! I’ve been waiting like two full months for someone to outright ask. I thought it was going to be a soldier, or even one of the Chargers! Oh, Bull. Your boys are great people.”

 

“I know, right?” The gruff voice sounds proud, but the boot nudges me again. I wobble myself up, still snickering.

 

“On to-to the next question,” good lord can Cullen be red… and _adorable_.

 

“It’s alright. It’s actually something I noticed myself; I seem to have the biggest pair in Haven,” more groans of misery from Cullen, who slaps his face and hides in it. Blackwall is making a point of staring very hard at the map, while Varric is snickering and Solas is pinching the bridge of his nose, but I can see the tiniest up-pull of his lip. The Chantry girls, and Josie, are blushing red, but Leliana and Vivienne look on with mostly indifferent faces. Think that’s indifferent? “I am actually only _slightly_ larger than _average_ back home.” I pucker my lips and grin at the stiffening going on around the table. Is that Cullen peeking?!

 

“Really?! Big ditties all over?”

 

“Yup, well, like I said, average to us. If I remember right, I read a report once about a woman with breasts that each weighed 65 pounds? Which is around the weight of a 6 or 7-year-old kid. And that’s _each_ breast.”

 

“Sweet Maker! Please, Lady Fannon!” Cullen uncovered his face and he is _crimson_. “How are you able to speak so candidly about these types of… matters?”

 

I blink, before rolling my head to the side, hissing at the pain and quickly righting my head. “Probably because it’s not really directed _at_ me. Sera likes the ladies, she likes lady bits, but not necessarily my lady bits for an extended period of time.”

 

“Also translated as Buttercup probably doesn’t want to court Songbird.” Varric was writing this part of the interaction down in his notebook. He was going to need a new pen it looks like. 

 

“Ugh, no. Creepy Sooth-Saysing. Creepy magic lover. Still, would love for you to let me pillow on those, henhenhen.”

 

“Sorry, Sera-hun. My barn door doesn’t swing that way.”

 

“What, really?! Piss!” The elf whacks the table with her fist.

 

“If it makes any difference, I’m still not sure my barn door even swings. Now, just to be clear,” I turn more towards Leliana. “Was that flirting on Sera’s part or a proposition? I’m still having trouble telling either.” I raise my eyebrows as Josie giggles into her board and Cullen actually starts praying while still brilliantly red.

 

“When Sera first asked about your breasts, that was flirting. Her speaking of making a pillow of them was a proposition.” Leliana smiles in a more mentor way as I nod. Briefly because friggen owwww.

 

“So what about, ‘Hey pretty girl. Saw those lips of yours from across the room. Would love to have some fun with ‘em’?”I even add little a ‘snap and point’ gesture.

 

“That could be seen as both, Fannon.” I raspberry for a second and snarl face.

 

“Blah, I am never going to understand all that crap.”

 

“You are actually studying this stuff, Songbird?” Varric looks surprised… and maybe confused. Guess for normal people flirting is much easier to understand.

 

“Well, you’re back now. And I know the shipping pool will be starting.” I do a more sarcastic face down at my fav dwarf, who snickers for a moment, before raising his hands up in an ‘evil’ pose. Ah, my eye is starting to throb. “...ughhh and I’m _definitely_ getting a headache.” I growl as one hand rubs up my neck and the other down my temple

 

“Lady Fannon?” Josie worries instantly and I move my hands off my head.

 

“Something about my earlier scare, and fall after, has jarred something in my neck. I’ll be alright lat-EEEE TICKLES!” And lo, the large, and might I also add, _very_ warm hand of Bull runs along the same neck path I just did. Good _Lord,_ is his skin rough. “I tickle! Easy! Quitquitquit!” I try smacking at his hand, but his thumb continues trailing my vertebra.

 

“If you want, I can fix ya,” Bull offers as his thumb digs into the most painful spot.

 

“You sure?... Alright,” I close my eyes and do my best to relax, letting the weight of my head go. He catches it easily and runs his fingers up and down some more.

 

“Uh, Songbird, not so sure you want to do that.” I raise my eyebrows, just as Bull sets me up. One slow out breath from me, used to chiropractic care since early middle school, and a quick jerk from him. I gasp at the solid pop in my ears and the almost immediate lightheadedness that comes with a good correction.

 

“Ohhhh-weee,” I grin, slightly high for a second as he gives my head back. “Ahh, you know a correction is good if the blood rushes off.” My eyebrows go up as he snickers… then realize what I said. “Not like that, you overgrown perv!” I stretch up the rest of my back before opening my eyes back up to the table… and notice _everyone_ is staring. “What?”

 

“I can’t believe you let him… just do that!” Blackwall is looking at my neck then back to Bull.

 

“Corrections? It’s pretty common in America. It’s amazing how many ailments and pains can be relieved with just nudging bones back where they _should_ be.”

 

“He could have killed you!” Cullen calls out, hands resting… why are his hands anywhere near his sword… why are others…

 

“Well, technically, he could. Just as any correction can go badly, but it normally has to be deliberate.”

 

“That’s what they are implying, Sooth-Sayer.” Bull rumbles from behind me… and I pout. I cross my arms and look at them all, while trying to understand why they think Bull would kill me. Fuck it, I’m asking. 

 

“Why? Why would Bull want to do that?”

 

Cullen is looking over my head, at Bull, and his eyes flash left and right. Looking at his horns?! **Cullen!** Well, wait, the Commander _does_ have a habit of lumping people together. Blackwall, Cassie and Vivienne are looking at Trevelyan, who’s giving both of us rather… ‘isn’t it obvious’ looks before answering. “He’s a Qunari spy. He’d just as soon kill you as aid us.”

 

I reel back at the just… blatant profiling spewing from Trevelyan. Jesus, is this why I got icky vibes from her?

 

“Jesus, seriously, y’all?” I look around again, noticing that only Blackwall, Leliana, Josie and Sera show _any_ disagreement in their expressions. I look down at Varric, who thinks it over for a second, before giving me a so-so hand gesture. “Oh, sweet Baby Jesus and his mother.” I pinch the bridge of my nose before taking a loooong breath in and out. “Bull, I’m about to start talking, but please, feel free to stop or correct me at any time. So, I’m going to ask _again_ ,” The advisors look at each other quickly. They all recognize my new tone. Ms. Fan is here. “Why would Bull want to kill me?”

 

“Let’s backtrack for starters. Did he not come right out and tell you he was Ben-Hassrath?” I extended a finger. “Did he not tell you that he would get reports that would help the Inquisition?” Second finger extends. “Did he not tell you, in some form, that ‘whatever he is, he’s on our side’?”

 

“Alright, now she’s getting creepy.” 

 

I smirk at the warrior’s comment while pulling my third finger up. “Did he not say that his orders are to join the Inquisition and get close to the people in charge?” I extend my pinkie, before closing all my fingers and thumbing back at him. “He’s here to help. He’s here to tell the rest of the Qunari that the Breach is being dealt with and that Par Vollen doesn’t need to send an invasion South. It’s a _good_ thing he’s open about this shit. The Qun would get spies in our ranks somehow anyway. Take the spy you know, and the one that can cleave a giant in the face, over the half dozen ones that you never see coming… MY HEAD IS NOT AN ARMREST!” I flail as Bull’s forearm rests on my head. Not heavy enough to impact my newly fixed neck, but it certainly shows how tall he is.

 

“Your little Sooth-Sayer here is pretty smart. Creepy, but smart.” I blush and suck on my lower lip. Fuck, that’s _quite_ a compliment coming from someone as smart as Bull. My little ego is glowing.

 

“That still doesn’t really explain why _you_ trust him so easily, Songbird.” Varric counters gently.

 

“Or,” Madame de Fer speaks for the first time, “why, although you trust him, you have yet to turn around and look at him.”

 

Busted like Benjamin Bunny.

 

“Well,-oh dear god, off!” I slap the freakishly warm arm that still on my head, hearing his snicker before getting off. “Well, it comes down to the key bits of his orders. Help the Inquisition. Right now, I am also helping the Inquisition. Therefore, it would directly go against orders for him to injure or maim or kill me. However, I am _very_ easy to read. Ask our Spymaster. She had me pegged in 5 minutes. Now, give Bull the same amount of time, and he’ll have just as much information. But he has handlers he sends reports to. Those handlers are going to hear about me from either him or through the grapevine. So, the less chance Bull has to read me, the better I am. Which _sucks_ because I’m going to miss hanging out with Kremy. So, to draw everything back into a little package; Bull isn’t going to hurt me or anyone else helping the Inquisition. The only thing we have to worry about is how many more bo-legged people there’ll be.” 

 

Cue a big laugh from Bull and Sera, disbelieving barks from Blackwall, Cassandra and Josie, and just about everyone else but Varric and Solas looking at me like I’m nuts. I quietly praise myself; I had actually been looking to slip that last bit in somewhere. Varric, bless him, was giving me a slow look over before grinning. “You totally planned that last bit.”

 

 I blush brightly, but smile big back at him, nodding. “I did! Oh my god, y’all, I can not _tell_ you how many rumors are going to start up around the Chargers. I mean, it’s just going to be _everywhere_. I remember going through Haven in a vision, minding my own business and these two ladies are just going on and on about walking funny.” More laughs are starting up, I think I even hear a Josie tehehe. “I’m just watching this vision, blushing like a fiend going ‘lalala, innocent ears. Do not need to hear this. Please shut up with your sexual ban-GASPPPP!” 

 

My hands clap over my mouth.

 

_Oh shit!_

 

I’m whining again.

 

_No!_

 

Varric pulls me to turn to him as I panic, feet tapping on the stone. “Easy, Songbird! Tell us about the problem. Can we stop it?” Oh Varric, I love you, but you are going to hate me when I can form words.

 

I dance in place more, grasping at the dwarf’s arms while trying to order my fucking words. Oh god, of all the things to remember _now!_ “I’ve seen the King and Queen of Ferelden naked!” Gasps from around the table. “Fuck, I saw Hawke and Broody… do… things…” Varric actually looks choked between humor and astonishment. I look to everyone at the table… oh dear god! “I need alcohol!” I release Varric and bolt for the door.

 

“You don’t drink!” Cullen calls out as I yank the door open and _run._

 

“I WILL NOW!” Flissa, don’t fail me when I need you!!

 

****

Bull had to admit; the woman was smart. Could still be dangerous, but she was not a threat, at least to him. Course he liked that last little realization. A few of the others at the table seemed to realize just what it meant when a Seer had seen certain heroes naked. “She didn’t say it, but I bet she’s seen all of us-”

 

“Maker’s breath, The Iron Bull, stop!” Boss, pink cheeked, commanded. The Qunari couldn’t decide who was more discolored, The Commander, the Ambassador, or the Seeker. 

 

****

 

Varric climbed the stairs of the tavern almost immediately after the meeting ended. It hadn’t lasted too much longer after Songbird ran out. Bull and Sera were making jokes about everyone being naked, and too many arguments were being made to not listen to the ‘Mad Woman’ from Iron Lady, Trevelyan and Sera. Varric was going to help the teacher more next meeting. She was doing pretty well for her. 

 

Opening the door, Varric couldn’t decide how he felt. It was amusing to see the woman actually quiet and sitting still for once, and of course the reason she was drinking had him mentally snickering for the last 30 minutes. Still, the fact that she was face down on the table, clutching a bottle of liquor, and obviously still upset if the shakes in her shoulders were any indication, stopped him from being too amused. He pulled a chair over to their normal table and rested his hand on her shoulder.

 

“Var-ic, I’m sowwy,” a pair of deep brown eyes, red rimmed and wet, turned toward him, though the woman never pulled her head from the table. “Don’t tell Hawke or Fenny I saw ‘em nakky.”

 

“Oh, sweetheart, I promise I won’t tell them.” The dwarf took the bottle from the woman’s hand, though she made a few sounds of protest. “Whiskey?!”

 

“Brain bleach. I wanna stop thin’in. Mine,” She made a grabby hand at the bottle and the dwarf passed it back. His eyebrows went up as the brunette slung her head back and took three strong pulls of the drink before coughing and chasing it down with her water mug.

 

“Damn, Songbird, you _can_ actually drink.”

 

“ **Neh neh.** I can, but I don’t drink to en-joy the drink. I drink to get plastered.” She thumps her head back down and is soon sniffling again. “Every-body ha~tes meeeeee.”

 

“Oh, come now, Songbird. They don’t hate you.”

 

“They do! I’m for mages, which means Cassie, Cuwin, Sera, Bull and Vivi hate me. And that’s before I ‘membered seeing people nakky.” She gasps and turns quickly to hug him, damn near pulling him off his chair. “I haven’t seen you nakky, Var-ic, I pwomise.”

 

The dwarf chuckle as he patted her back. “Ah, there’s worse things than being seen naked, Dana.” 

 

“But Cuwin and Cassie get so shy, and Cassie still hates me for sum weason.”

 

Varric had to admit, he still saw the Seeker’s tension whenever Dana’s name was spoken too. He patted her again and pushed her back into her chair more, wincing mentally as she flopped face first again. “Have you eaten anything lately, Songbird?”

 

“Uh-uh. I wasn’t hunwy at lunch. ‘Sides, get drunk faster.”

 

“Fannon, that is irresponsible.” The author turned as Solas approached them, looking at the human and her bottle of choice. “You should eat something. If only to stave off the headache you will have tomorrow.”

 

“Har-Henhr- **Seonsay-** Solas! I pwomise I haven’t seen you nakky either.” Songbird’s hands reached out in rather frantic, desperate-to-be-believed motions to the elf mage. Varric heard the man sigh softly before reaching over and patting the woman’s head.

 

“Fannon, it would have been more surprising if your visions had not covered more intimate moments. You watched the Champion of Kirkwall over the span of seven years. Had you known that we were real, I am quite certain you would have done your best not to see or hear.”

 

The teacher nodded a half dozen times very quickly. “I didn’t know.”

 

“The others will get over their embarrassment with time. Now, we should see about getting you food.”

 

The rest of the time in the tavern went in short order. They fed the teacher while she finished up her bottle. ‘She paid for it and she was going to get her coopers’ worth’ was her argument against not drinking anymore. There were many more apologizes, each becoming thicker and thicker with her strange accent. By the time she was wobbling in her chair, it was dark, and she was more agreeable to going home.

 

At first, she complained about either of them escorting her home, declaring that their sleeping spots were in Haven and they were going out of their way. Chuckles argued that it was a safer alternative than asking Cullen to do so. She flushed even stronger, now with the alcohol, and quietly took Varric’s hand and followed the two. Course no matter what she or Chuckles had argued, Varric wasn’t going to let a drunk, and even more talkative, Songbird out of his sight. Especially since they had to pass the Chargers on their way out.

 

The mercs looked to be in full swing of celebration as they passed. Tiny had found a large barrel to sit on while slamming his fist through a second for the Chargers to drink from. Despite Songbird rather reasonable call that the Bull wasn’t a danger, something about the way the man had watched her so closely at the meeting worried the author. Still, the Qunari had held her neck in his hands and only used his strength to set her straight. Varric would keep close, but not interfere for now.

 

Andraste’s Ass, drunk Songbird was even more clinging and cuddly than sober Songbird. He never would have believed it possible if he didn’t have himself pulled into a least four different hugs before they arrive outside her warded cabin. The elf rested a finger on the author, allowing the two men to escort the drunk woman all the way inside. Boots were discarded, alongside her purse and belt, but Solas got her into bed, drinking some disgusting looking potion from her kitchen, and out with a sleep spell before she changed into her sleep clothes. The two men left calmly after Solas check that his ward was still working.

 

“Chuckles, I think tomorrow’s going to be loud.” 

 

“I would agree, and in the end, the choices are out of our hands, by in large.” A small bit of disagreement came through. 

 

“Well, let’s at least make it known how we feel about it. I’ll get my notes ready and comb out my chest for luck.”

 

****

 

 

Bull grinned around his sixth mug, watching some of his boys grab hold of their sleeping rolls or a person as their bodies took in the mead. A few others, and his closest ring, were still up and ready for more. Now was the time for questions. Something ‘harmless’ to get it started.

 

“Saw you lot cheering for the Sooth-Sayer in that match. How often does she spar with the Commander?”

 

“Them’s two just started. Co’ander trying out some of her out a’country tricks.” Slate, a half deaf Ferelden archer partly yelled, raising her mug at Fannon’s mention. “She’s got some moves tha’d git ya outta pinch, but she scares too easy.” The spy had definitely noticed the latter.

 

“I’ve got 10 silver running on Commander finally saying the right thing and getting her alone. Nobody’s been able to get her attention, Chief. We’ve all had to watch Mockingjay drool over that middle of hers, and she doesn’t notice his flirting at all!” Upper Crust, a freshly dishonored Orlesian noble with a good eye and ear for languages and daggers. Currently trying to sound like a Marcher; Bull could see him fooling a Ferelden.

 

“Have you _seen_ her, Chief?” Mockingjay started, hands making gestures all along the phantom curves of Fannon. “Not many women that soft. And those hips! Bet she’d be just as good carrying the babes as she is tending to them.” The former Avvar ran his hand up and down his thigh, not being indecent in his lusting yet.

 

“Yeah, I saw her. You’re right, not many women that soft. But if she’s not going for it, she’s not going for it.” Bull drank down slowly, watching as Krem looked at him dead on with a serious look. Wanted to talk alone.

 

“I don’t think she even knows you’re trying, Marcus.” Stitches offered, before thumbing at himself. “I never did; had to run around with this lot for couple years before I got it.” Hm… Stitches had a point. His healer never had an interest in sex or ‘romance’. Could be similar to Fannon then.

 

“Nah, she’s just waiting for the Chief.” Upper Crust grinned slightly mad. His accent was falling. “See the dress, Chief? That was us. She told us all when we got here that she had to avoid you. Said you were dangerous.” The man reaches out to slap Slate’s knee. “Word around town is she’s as pure as snow. Scared to take the Bull for a ride. Have fun with taking that flower, _Messere.”_ Full Orlesian at the end, but it was his wording that pulled Bull’s back straight.

 

“No one. is _taking_. shit, _Destin_.” Bull growled low.

 

The man stiffened at Bull’s threat laden posture, before jerking back. He realized what he had said. “ _Non, non! Ce n'est pas ce que je voulais dire!_ ” 

 

“I know you are still getting used to it, Destin, but everyone has the freedom and the _right_ to say no.” Bull drank long from his mug. Being a damn noble makes them forget that little rule. Upper Crust looks properly ashamed, setting his mug down and heading for bed.

 

“...You ‘id like the ‘ress though, ey Chief?” Slate turned the conversation back.

 

“Ah, shit yeah. Was a great color, good fit on her frame. Little short on her legs though, Kremcicle.” Bull grinned as the Vint rolled his eyes. Krem was more of arms work, Grim and Needles did skirts. A jerk of his head told Bull his lieutenant was interested in getting this conversation started. “Alright, Krem. Let's hear your newest belly ache.” The Iron Bull set his mug back into the barrel before setting it on the one he was using for a seat. He bit down the ache in his left leg as he followed Krem.

 

A few trees away, and in a nook that the Spymaster’s scouts were having a hard time getting into quietly, Krem stood tall. “Chief, I don’t think that’s why she’s nervous about you, is she?” Atta boy; getting better at reading.

 

“She’s worried about my reports, and how the Qun is going to take to her visions, yeah.”

 

Krem gritted his teeth, scratching at his binder at the back absentmindedly, before looking about at Bull again. Hm, his boys liked her alot then.

 

“Look, Chief. The Qun stuff isn’t my business, but you need to know: She hiked up her skirts and _ran_ to meet us. She knew me, Dalish, Rocky, Stitches, Grim and Skinner. By name and appearance… and Chief… she _knows_ me.” The tone got Bull’s attention. He kept his mind open to the next information. “She… she got me a shaving kit, Chief. My ‘Welcome to the Inquisition present’ she said. Just something to think about.” The Vint nodded after his piece and moved to leave. “Oh, and if she raises her middle finger to you,” the brunet demonstrated, “it’s our two fingers.” Krem grinned as he gave the two fingers and waved them at Bull’s head. The Qunari chuckled; wise ass.

 


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oc has a sit down with Sera. Then it's time to play TAG!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...BAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

Turns out the meeting I had been dreading through most of my on and off again drunken sleep wouldn’t be happening for a few more days. The Avvar in the Mire apparently struck some time in the night, and emergency preparations were made by the advisors. I had warned them about this happening while the crew had been in Orlais, which meant my hungover ass got to stay in bed until ten-ish the next day. I wanted to hide longer, but the kiddos needed me. 

 

And that is how I discovered that evading The Iron Bull was going to be fucking hard as hell.

 

First off, the Chargers are stationed in roughly the same area as in game. At least the main crew who know who Bull _really_ is. The others are spread around the lake. That means that just to get to town, there’s a chance to run into Bull. Luckily he wasn’t there as I passed by. Though, from the way the kids kept miming horns on their heads and staring behind me during class, I’m pretty sure he was close by. Class ended and rather than taking my normal route to leave, I took a longer way that brought me closer to Leliana’s work tent. If you have a pattern, you are an easier target, the spymaster had told me when I conferred with her weeks ago. It _ate_ at me to change my patterns; my patterns are my comfort, but staying out of Bull’s way for as long as possible was key. What was fucking _worse_ was that I had to leave my headphones off. Haven is _loud_!

 

Walking to _Hahren’s_ house, I pout to learn that he was one of those selected to go to the Mire. What, Madame de Smugface couldn’t get her boots dirty? Well, I was avoiding the Chantry as much as possible for a few days then. Turning, and keeping my eyes on my feet-another tip from Leliana-, has me seeing a very obvious horned shadow next to Adan’s own at the stairs. Well, looks like his horns are the same from the game, roughly. I spin on my heel and go around the back of the Apothecary and down the rocks. I hiss as my ankle suddenly twangs while hopping down. Really?! It hasn’t twanged since I got my damn brace. Ughhhhhh!

 

I weave around a few more people and get into the Tavern, now the most dangerous spot for me. Tavern equals booze. Booze equals Charger fuel. Chargers equal Bull. I duck into my corner and keep my hood up and over my face as I eat. It won’t work as any kind of disguise, but it might give me some time to hide my face from Bull.

 

“Hey creepy.” I jump a bit as a chair is pulled over to my table, and Sera of all people sits next to me.

 

“Hi Sera. Have you gotten the hang of, oh, um, have you gotten familiar with Haven yet? I can help if you want.”

 

“Wats that you did? Stoppin yeself? Think I’m too stupid for big words?” Sera bristles quickly. Greeeeat.

 

“No, Sera, I don’t think you’re stupid. Though, for the future, brush up on the titles of Ferelden leaders. You’ll need the info against one of the Inquisition members in a game of ‘Your people are shit’ I changed because I’ve been told my vocabulary doesn’t make sense at times.”

 

“Argggg with your creepy shite! No one should know the future. ‘Xcept the Maker. That’s why they don’t like you, you know. You go against Andraste.” Sera’s face is still scrunched up. I pause mid bite as I think it over… holy shit! That makes sense. Both women are extremely devout and there are so many references to Maker only speaking to Andraste, and how this is the only world. I am a goddamn slap in the face to them just by being here.

 

I slump back in my chair, rubbing my face, before I beam at Sera, which makes her tense more. “Thank you Sera! That makes sense! Oh, I have been wondering for ages what I did wrong.”

 

“Yer happy they don’t like you? Yer more daft than I thought.”

 

“Well, no. I’m happy about understanding why. I hate not understanding why someone’s mad.”

 

“Well, missy Penta-guts is mad about you seeing her lady bits now, henhenhen. You saw me too, rite? Sure your ‘barn door’ is closed?”

 

I snort and make a shoo motion at her. “I really didn’t see anyone… below the belt line. Yes, I saw you, too. And yes, I’m sure.” Course, I only saw Sera’s bits thanks to YouTube. I just don’t mesh with Sera’s view of romance. Also, not interested in girls; that seems the more pressing point.

 

“Piss. So whats you after? Big and hairy? The jackaboot? Arg, don’t be after Mr. Elfy-elf.”

 

Oww, my nose! I snort so damn hard I damn near crack my skull into the table. “Sera, are you in Varric’s shipping pool already?”

 

“Why’s he call it that? But yeah. Right now, yer pang with the jackaboot for 20 silver. Elfy Elfy is 25. Not gonna try you with Warden. Think Fancypants Herald is after him.” Oh… ohhhh that’s gonna be bad. Need to talk to Thom before it gets serious.

 

“Wait, why is Solas worth more?”

 

“He’s been seen in your cabin. You two talk an awful lot. Me, I bet more silver that he only gits it hard for elfy girls.”

 

Well, she wasn’t wrong.

 

“Sera, as I’ve told Varric before, I’m not sure I’m even interested in anyone. There’s been passing crushes, but I seem to fall for gay guys.” I stop because she gives me this ‘what’s that’ look. “Gay means liking the same gender as yourself. You are gay or lesbian in our slang cause you like ladybits. Anyway, that should tell you something about my tastes.” Sera snorts and cracks up, damn near falling out of her chair.

 

We spend the next ten minutes talking about the outline of their trip back. Sera is _not_ a storyteller, but the basics are good to know. Kirkwall was apparently a raging success with the Black Emporium. Sera mentioned that ‘Varric’s guardsmen-redhead waddled and looked fit to pop’. Go Donnic and Aveline! Storm Coast was wet, wet, wet! I may have given her a high five for getting a crab in Vivienne’s bedroll. Then I had to explain why high fives were good. 

 

“So you really popped out a rift? Green swishy swirly?”

 

“Yup, and I tried convincing myself for about three days that I was just dreaming of Thedas again.”

 

“We the same? Your visionies show us as us?” Sera has a… tic? I wanna call it. If she’s talking about something she doesn’t like, a.k.a. Magic, she pulls at a piece of her knife-cut hair. Interesting that we share something.

 

“Pretty much. You’re taller than I saw, Josie’s shorter. I would know who all of you were on sight though.”

 

I sit a little straighter as I listen in on the Bell as it started. Noon bell. I needed to get any babies that needed sitting soon. Back into the fray with Bull … oh lightbulb. 

 

“Sera, I need your help for something.” God, I want to take a picture of that ‘ohmyegawd’ face she just pulled. “I’ll even pay if need be. I need help with… not so much a praaaank, but it is a trick.” The war in her mind was obvious but after a bit, she waved me ahead. “I need to get rumors started. Rumors about Bull.”

 

“Henhenhen, you want rumors about his big _horn_? Psst!” She dissolved into giggles.

 

I blushed a bit before smirking. “Yes.” That got her attention, seeing as she actually leaned in. 

 

“Figured with your barn door closed, yer first wouldn’t be him, yeah?”

 

I blush more. Jesus, what an image! Virgins trying ‘to ride The Bull’. I wonder for a second if he turns them down just to save them the pain… then again, what if he just warms them-SHUT UP LACK-OF-ME-TIME BRAIN!! “It’s not like _that_! I need the right rumors falling on all ears, that the Bull takes on all comers, sex wise.”

 

The elf leers, shimmying her shoulders. “Ohhh, how’s the spooky virgin know? Whadda ya see?!”

 

“I did not _see_ shit.” I flick a few fingers worth of my water at her. “The rumors would start on their own, but I need them to start now. If Bull is too busy shagging everyone in Haven, he’ll be too busy to keep track of me.”

 

“He can take all Haven and keep going, that kinda rumors you want?”

 

“Something like ‘the Chargers are good, but their leader never leaves anyone unsatisfied.’ Something about how most people are sore in a good way-”

 

“For a white sheet, yer good at this.”

 

“White sheet?... Oh, virgin! Yes, well, in my culture, there are hundreds of millions of stories, short to long, about… intimacy.” I may have written a few myself, but she didn’t need that info. “I find a number of them interesting, though highly unlikely. Some of them talked about someone taking another’s whole arm up their… who-whos.” Sera gagged at that one, and a shiver went down her back.

 

“Nah, couple of fingers and yer good.” She friggin cackles as I cover my ears and lala.

 

“Sera darling, I’ve read plenty. I don’t need to _hear_ about it from a girl half my damn age.”

 

“Half? Psst not. Yer older than the jackaboot, yeah? I’m turning 21 in 6 months. Do some figures.”

 

“Oh dear me, you’re 11 years younger than me. My mistake, tiny itty-bitty sticky Sera.” I raspberry her as she starts getting huffy. “One silver to get the rumors going immediately.”

 

“Two silvers.” She plopped her arm on the table in an aggressive ‘making a deal’ pose.

 

“Don’t have it, Buttercup. How about.... One silver and a dirty story? I still have a few on me from falling into the Fade.” I pat my purse, though they are actually on my Kindle at home. “I need them to cover Haven.” I offer up my hand, and she’s cackling before she shakes it.

 

“Yer creepy as shite, but this sounds fun.”

 

“I’ll take it for now. Hopefully we’ll get along ok. Want anything to eat before I head out?” I pull out my coin purse and plop my last silver on the table for her. I might have to go hungry for my last week, or ask one of the scouts to shoot me a nug.

 

“Nah, got my own coin for food. Where yer heading?” Sera stands up with me. She might be just an inch shorter than Leliana. 

 

“I have to hit the kitchens around the Chantry. I help parents with their kids until my next class…” I pause as I look between my normal side door and the main door. Which one is he more likely to be at? “Sera, one more thing, please? Open the main door and see if he’s out there? Pleaseeee with sugar plums on top?”

 

“Oy, that sounds good. A’right.” Sera was still giggling as moved over to the front. I side stepped closer to the other door. Sera whistled as she opened hers. “Hey, ya big-horned tit.”

 

And that’s my cue. FLEEEEEEE!

 

So continues my day of dodging, ducking, and round abouting. Good news, by third bell, I caught a shadow of a pair of horns cozying up to someone in an alley. By fourth bell, Sera’s rumors, farrrrr cruder than my versions, reached my ears. Then, fifth bell arrived. And I had to face… Cullen.

 

I side-scooch over to his desk at the edge of the training field, making sure neither of us had to look at each other. My toes curl and uncurl in my boots as I try to figure out the best way to get this over with. I know _I’m_ 40 shades of pink, and I’m sure he’s not far off. “Good evening, Commander. Re-reporting for exercise, ser.”

 

There is a _long_ moment of only papers moving, before a long sigh behind a hand sounds. “There’s-there’s no way to have this conversation and not be awkward, is there?” I peek to my side and see him peeking from above his hand. Yup, cherry red.

 

“Well, if it helps, I’ve never seen anyone's … dangling bits.” I turn back away and pull at my hair as he groans. Fuck, I even get the twists tied around my pinkie again.  “And I can at least warn you now. Get some practice in with Wicked Grace.”

 

“Or perhaps I’ll just make sure I’ll never play it.”

 

“But it looked so fun!” I turn and lean over the desk, both fists under my chin. He blinks at me, head cocking to the side. “You spend so much time being the Commander. It was a chance for you to just be Cullen. I loved the stories you were telling.” I beam as the little sassy smirk starts again. “Besides, I’ll make sure I stop you before the losing hand, if you don’t practice. Grab Varric tonight and get some time in.”

 

“Ah, Varric went with the Herald, along with Cassandra, Solas and Blackwall. They won’t be back for a fortnight, at least.” Cullen offers as he stands, looking down at me without too much of a blush.

 

“Really? Varric too? Ughhh, now I have no one to hang out with.” I pout, before blinking as the ex-templar disrobes partially and tightens his boots. “Cullen?”

 

“Despite some reports of … uh ... The Iron Bull being … preoccupied, it is still in your best interest to not interact with him, yes? I will join you in the evenings.” He rolls up the sleeves of his tunic and ties them to his … very nice upper arms … ohhhhhh, my lack of me-time is _reallllly_ starting to hurt.

 

“Well, at least I won’t be the only one with sore hips and legs.” I grin while wrinkling my nose at him. He blushes some, and it takes my brain a few moments to realize how some could take that. I blush bright again and look away, my tummy is fluttering in a number of ways.

 

***

 

My arrival in the Fade tonight has me still grumbling and grossing. Fuck, it’s not fair! How can Cullen be that sweet AND that good looking?! And the Herald was going after Blackwall? Why? Fuck, I only _accidentally_ romanced Blackwall. Oh, and when my main game got to that scene in Val Royeaux, _nope_. That save game went the way of Solas’ and Sera’s. Wait… how many save files does that leave me?

 

“Good evening, _da’len.”_ Solas’ hand taps my shoulder, announcing his presence… huh, where’s the Veilfire? He disappears again, only to reappear sitting in front of me, pinkies attached.

 

“Ugh, hi _hahren_.” I rub at my hair with my other hand. I am strangely extra tired tonight, and the Fade is never restful.

 

“... You are not well. Have the others approached you?”

 

“No! No no, I’m fine… just… a lil bummed. I finally think I’ve figured out why Cassie hates me so much. The Chantry preaches about only one world by the Maker yada. I’m from a completely different _world_ altogether. I just throw that piece of the script out the door.”

 

Solas is quiet, studying me, for a bit, before leaning his head slightly to the left. I’ve started calling that his ‘did I hear that right’ head tilt. “You have not confirmed to the others that you are not of this world, correct?”

 

I bristle a little and moved to affirm him. “No! No, I haven’t mentioned it to anyone, just like you said not to.” The two of us had a bit of a debate about the matter early on, but his argument made sense. He was sure just _mentioning_ the other countries on _this_ world that he had seen in the Fade would have started a fight.

 

“I know it is difficult to try to explain your world’s advances under the guise of another country. You have been doing quite well; I commend you on that.” Solas gives that little corner lip smile and my inner ego purrs.

 

“I wish you were still in Haven, _hahren_. I would love to be having live language lessons.”

 

“I hope we will return in short order myself. Your descriptions of the mire are not at all pleasant.” The mage looks amused at an idea. Happy Solas is still a great sight, and that little half chuckle he does is rather sexy… ughhhhh! Fuck _you,_ hormones! “I am sure the Orlesian requested not to travel with us.”

 

I snort and giggle, nodding quickly. “Madame McSmugButt doesn’t want her boots all muddy.”

 

“Indeed. Come, let us worry of the circle mage another time. Where did we leave off? Your ‘biological chemistry’.”

 

Ah, the substance in my body I am currently cursing. Fuck, who am I kidding? I’ve been cursing it for over a damn month. “Ah, hormones. So, we were talking about gender hormones…”

 

***

 

My candle dings me out of _another_ night of restless sleep. I bite into my straw pillow with a growl as my lower stomach is still tight from my… attempts of me-time last night. My hand still tired out way too soon. I half scream into the bitten pillow, before I flop out of my cot. Argg and this was going to be day _threeeee_ of no Varric or Solas and Cullen as my stretching, wiggling and oh-dear-lord-those-muscles partner. Damn that handsome sweetie man who I just wanted to GAHHHHHH! No! Do _not_ crush on the ex-Templar. Bad brain.

 

I am actually looking forward to my cold bath this morning. Brings life back into focus. I snort once as I remember the last escape from Bull I managed yesterday. Oh, it had been amazing.

 

Sera was no longer on my side, since Bull had offered her more coin, but she at least gave me a heads up about the change. She was sitting with me in the tavern; as I had unfortunately made a new habit of it. She was chewing on her thumb, squirming as she read over a two page blurb of one of my naughty saved smuts, converted into girl on girl. Then Bull came walking in through the door, looking for Sera. Least I figured he was; my hood was down so all I saw were _big_ boots pointing in our direction. Lucky meeeee, I always sat in the corner, that happened to not be too far from an open window. I still remember the pissed ‘Oh, come on!” as I had dropped onto the ground. I ran squealing all the way to the training yard.

 

Thinking back on the game of chase I’ve started, I think of the twins and Quill-quilt. My guards have been given the run down over what to do. Report to Leliana if he catches up to me and only engage if it looks like I’m putting up a life or death fight. I don’t go back into town after dark and one of them roams around the lake, padded down with pillows to _kinda_ look like me. Oh, and they had all reported numerous people already walking funny. Did that man have stamina or what… NO! BAD THINKING! 

 

Braiding my hair for the day, I still have to wonder why he hasn’t just cornered me. I seriously doubt my attempts at dodging are _really_ causing him trouble. I mean, good grief, just from the meeting I know he’s giant and if he’s _anything_ like his game self, he’s strong enough to turn me at the shoulders. Was he having fun? Have to admit, _I_ am. He always came off as someone who likes a good puzzle. One of the damn reasons I sent my little note ages ago.

 

 I ‘blah’ at myself in the mirror, pinching some color into my cheeks. Ughhhh I look like crap. _More so than usual, even_. FUCK YOU DEPRESSION! I hiss out loud and smack my hand on the table, epping and reaching out to catch my medication bottle. Lord, how bad would my depression be acting up without this stuff.

 

I open my jar of breakfast bars and pop one between my teeth as I open the door. Ugh!! Even after two months of eating it, my morning tack bar still makes me gag for the first few bites. Granola like in texture, I was able to get myself some berry drizzle lately. Not helping much and I fear for my teeth. I am half way through the bar as I step through the ward barrier. Who of my kin would ever believe that I was up before dawn on my lones-

 

SNAP

 

I jump and swivel toward the noise, dropping to a crouched stance in the time it takes me to realize… I am so _fucking_ screwed.

 

Bull … 

 

SHIT!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I is Punny :P


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All new levels of potty mouth are achieved.
> 
>  
> 
> ((There is one small moment of Fannon cussing a single word eight times. This is done in the fashion of Ducky from Land before time's Yeps...just for reference into my demented self.))

**_ Bull …  _ **

**__ **

**_ SHIT!! _ **

 

 

 

This is the first time I have faced him, and I still can’t get a _true_ bead on just how tall he is compared to me. He’s standing in my tree line, about twenty feet away. Considering the size of the stick that’s been snapped, and the fact that his ginormous boot is still on it, he has to have done it on purpose. Not surprising, was there much the man did on accident? He has squished it with his ‘bad’ foot/leg and I know my eyes look over the brace before taking more in. Those goddamn circus tent pants, purple and green vertical stripes, flowed up to that belt that would probably fit around _my_ fat ass. It’s at least as wide as someone’s head is tall. 

 

From there, it’s nothing but cool gray skin. Maybe a little on the barely purple side in the sun. Scars _litter_ his wide and thick torso, and I’m sure if I was up close, I’d see more. I try, and fail, not to notice his hairlessness and nipples as I look up to his neck, taking note also of the arms that looked as big around as Sera. He’s got those markings, vitaar? I think. Look like full sleeve tats. No harness for his shoulder this morning, but I can see the imprint of its usual placement. He’s a bit better proportioned in real life, the muscles of his chest flow better and from the limited gaze I give to his face, _smirking bastard_ , his head isn’t so tiny. 

 

I’d love to get a better view of his face and horns, but I am too miffed to now. I move my eyes back down to his boots, take two steps back into my barrier, and continue munching on my breakfast.

 

“So,” he rumbles. Ughhhhh! Noooooo! In one syllable, which he draws out playfully, I know I’m lost. My ears just picked up that beautiful rumble and sent it straight down my back. I feel my face immediately scrunch up as I chew. “How are we gonna play this, Sooth-Sayer?” Ohhh, that was worse! Damnit, and I thought my sensitivity to Cullen’s accent was bad!

 

I don’t look at him, though I’m more than sure he can see every detail as the gears in my head churn double time. He’s only about 30 feet away from me, and I’m a good 3-minute walk from the training yard. Vanril and Feyriel should be nearby, but they are under orders. I think Quill will already be in position to watch my laps. I assured everyone that being the Sooth-Sayer would make me too valuable for the Qun to _kill_ me. Kidnap me though, that’s still up in the air.

 

_Nom._

 

Then, of course, was the fact that it was as early as it was. Screaming won’t attract attention fast enough. Only my delay in getting the yard would, and Cullen was rather forgiving of me, even if we both pretended he wasn’t. 

 

I can see the smug asshole from the corner of my eye. Whatever he sees on my face has made him even more relaxed. Hell, he’s got both thumbs in his belt and he’s leaning on a tree with his legs crossed. Sure, I’m no challenge, but fuck you, man. My options are almost nothing. I grr-face as I wrap up my bar and stuff it in my belt.

 

I hold up one finger to him as I step back outside the barrier. I use the other hand to unclip my waterskin, and quickly drain it. Clipping it back on, I give him my attention. He smiles, instead of smirking, and takes a step forward as I sigh.

 

Then a grin _crawls_ over my own face as I give him a two-middle-finger salute and say, “Ben-Hassrath suck ass.”

 

 **I bolt**.

 

I _pray_ I’ve surprised him, cause that’s the only chance I see. All I need to do is get within sight of the yard. Bull’s a spy, the last thing he wants to do is be seen kidnapping me, or at the very least, making a scene. I feel the crunch of the gravel under my boots as I go.

 

A boom of a laugh, which would have made me grin if I heard it at the tavern, sounds just as heavier steps start up behind me. Shit, how fast is Bull?! I can’t assume his bulk, and god is it _bulk_ , will slow him down.

 

“ShitshitShitshitShitshitShitshit!” Why am I talking while running?!

 

Another laugh from behind me, and closer!

 

The rock formation is in sight. As soon as I turn into the fork, I’ll be in view of-

 

FUCK YOU, NOT-WORKING-ANKLE-BRACE!!

 

I gasp/yell as my foot twists, and my ankle gives. My hands come out to catch myself on the ground, only to have a _HUMONGOUS_ arm grab me around the waist. In my panic of being caught, and pain, he gets my arms pinned to my sides and now both of his arms have trapped me at my waist. 

 

AND HE IS HOLDING ME OFF THE FUCKING GROUND!! 

 

I don’t _care_ how strong he is; there is no way he should be able to lift _and hold onto_ my fat ass. I’m being held half way up his chest at that, with his nose in between my shoulder blades. He’s not even panting, while I am heaving for air.

 

Ok, so, I just rolled my ankle, Bull has caught me after I had tried so hard to avoid him for days. He’s not even remotely winded, and somehow the s.o.b is strong enough to _hold_ me halfway up his body. Add into that the adrenaline, the pain, and the rather silly fear of dropping from this height and I do not claim responsibility for my mouth.

 

“Oh, you mother _fucking_ , pissant asshole! How the _fuck_ did you do that?!” I try kicking his stomach, having to drop my right foot quickly, but kept it up with my left. I feel a shock wave up my leg as my foot meets hard abs under some soft squish and leather.

 

“You fucking son of a bitch, fuck you!” I strain forward. I just need to get an arm free and I’ll yank off his fucking horns. _OHhh_ , the fucker is smirking into my back!

 

“Fuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufuckyou, AGHHHH!!” I dig my foot in and keep it there as I try twisting my torso. I just need to make some kind of pocket of space. I grit my teeth and suck air as I try. I feel his chest and arms tighten, and I get nowhere. I fall forward, bent over his arms, panting even harder now.

 

“You done?”

 

“FUCKYOUFUCKYOUFUCKYOU!!” I don’t even have a cool down as I scramble to find a way out of this massive muscle trap. I slam my head back, but he’s still got his face too low for me to hit. “I’M GOING TO RIP OFF YOUR HORNS AND SHOVE THEM UP YOUR ASS! COCKSUCKER! MOTHERFUCKING VINT COCKSUCKER!”

 

“Yeah, it’s not really an insult if it’s true.” Oh, you smug _asshole_!!

 

I slump forward again, this time coughing, hard, between my gasps for air.

 

“YOUR TAMA TAKES IT FROM MAGISTERS!”

 

“Hey,” and I hear the barest amount of ‘that might actually be insulting’ in the word.

 

“Sorry,” I manage between another set of hard coughs. His left arm lets go of me, coming up to pat against my back. “How in _the_ fuck are you holding me with one arm?! I am way,” _Hack!_ “ugh, way too fat for this shit.”   

 

“Lost some weight though, huh? Looks like you’ve had to cut a few new holes in your belt.” He’s now _rubbing_ my back, between my shoulder blades.

 

“Grrr, Ben-Hassrath, bullshit.” After my coughing attack is over, he loops his arm back around my waist. We just stand there, well, _he_ stands there, for awhile longer as my breathing starts comes down.

 

“Done now?”

 

“Fuck you,” I say, though there’s no bite to it. I’ve lost, fair and square. Still sucks.

 

“My tent’s always open.” I can _hear_ the grin in his voice.

 

I lose it.

 

My wheezing teapot laugh sounds through the trail, my body curling up tight around his arms. Oh, god, my guts hurt. Tears are running down my face and he’s laughing too. Fuck, his body vibrates! as he laughs.

 

“Ow, ow ow ow owwwww! My stomachhhh,” I even snort! Finally, _finally_ , I get my breathing completely under control. “Bull?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I hurt my foot.” My voice comes out a little baby-ish, but I’m not in a _great_ mood.

 

“Saw that. Thought you might get a face full of rock. Alright,” He adjusts me, lowering me so we’re kind of torso to torso height before he walks us over to the rock formation. “Let’s get a look at it.”

 

We work it out that he sets me mostly down and I one leg hop myself into a sitting space. From there he kneels in front of me, but I stare up at the clouds.

 

“Alright, now you’re just being stubborn.” I think that’s _mostly_ amusement in his voice. Not looking.

 

“Oh, you have _nooooo_ idea.” I jump a little, but still keep my head back, as he lifts up my bad foot.

 

“You know you’re bleeding, right?”

 

“WHAT?!” In panic, I look down, and damn near headbutt him in the face.

 

His eye, full of amusement at me, is like fresh grass green. I kinda end up staring, cocking my head to the side. “Huh.”    

 

“What?” My eyes go down to his mouth. Those scars that go down his left check actually hit his upper lip, creating a part in his mustache. Kinda like Cullen’s. Said lips are very red for his skin, but the darkness of his facial hair tempers them. Oh, his beard is longer than in game. Maybe the length of my finger from tip to first knuckle. Looks royally scratchy though. His nose is nearly the same, but the nostrils aren’t _so_ high, giving it a _slightly_   more ‘human’ look. Same face shape, though, so are his ears. Well, no. His right ear is, his left ear is cut though somewhat. I reach up and take him by that jutting, solid chin and turn him to get a look at his left ear. My eyes coast up to the three deep, much deeper than I thought, scars that would travel from his horn base and down over his brow and eye. The eyepatch blocks the view of the missing organ, but I can follow the path. The flay continued down to the middle of his cheek, where it must have flicked away. So what caused the two nicks of his ear-

 

OMG I’M TOUCHING HIM!!!

 

I damn near fling myself off the rock in my panic. “Oh my god! I’m _so_ sorry, Bull! I grabbed you without thinking!” Crap, that was so fucking rude!

 

He’s smiling, so I’m not dead?! “Nah. Noticed you’re a pretty touchy person. I don’t mind.” Ohhh, damn you back shivers! “You were confused about something.”

 

I was?... Oh! “Well, I’ve just never had a really good look at your eye. Course, all my visions have had you standing WAY the hell over the Herald.” The smug grin is back. “Stooooop with that smug face. I bet you are tiny by Qunari standards.” I cross my arms and huff, which gets him to grin wider.

 

“Nope, damn tall, even by our standards.”

 

“Horn height doesn’t count,” I add as I take in the massive attachments to his skull. The main parts of the horn, the parts that go horizontal from his head, are easily as thick as my forearm. They look rough and jagged, with different growth knots. The bend is definitely sharp, with the bend itself being even thicker. From there, the horns point up, but also drift backwards gently. The tips and maybe three inches below them are smooth and tapered. I chew on my inner lip as I look back to meet his eye. “Did my horn balm help at all? And be _honest_.”

 

I swear his face softens and he… can one wink if you only have one eye?, at me. “Helps some. Soothes some immediate itches, but need to thicken it up for it to help in the long run.”

 

I grr face at him. “You should have told me before. Or sent a note. I’ll try a new batch, see if that’s any better.”

 

So now, we sit… I sit and he kneels, staring each other down. After a bit, he gives a low laugh. “Got questions?”

 

“Sooooo many.”

 

“How about I check out your foot, and you can ask away?”

 

I ick face. I find feet, especially mine, rather nasty. Then again, I am freshly washed, and my socks are clean. Plus, I can still feel my ankle pulsing. “Careful, please?”

 

He gives a half nod before adjusting himself. He sets my foot onto his bent knee and stops me as I lean over to get my laces. “I got it. Sit.” I roll my eyes and briefly mock his words. He’s very gentle with unlacing my boot and slipping it off. I don’t feel anything until he starts rolling down my sock. “Damn, you rolled it bad.” I can tell. It’s swelling already with redness all over and a purple center. He looks in my boot before pulling out my brace. He studies it for a bit, looks like he makes up something in his mind, before setting my foot down and standing.

 

Dear God, I feel like a teeny, tiny insect in comparison.

 

“Stay there for a second.” He walks a bit away and I watch him scoop up a good armful of snow from the shade. He kneels back down in front of me and gently packs the COLD! stuff along my ankle. I take the boot and tie the laces to my purse strap, moving the brace back inside it. “We’ll keep this on before I take you to Stitches.”

 

We watch each other for a bit again, before I sigh in defeat. “Ok, is there _anything_ I can say that would _maybe_ stop you from sending a report about me?” I flutter my lashes for extra measure, and almost immediately mentally pout. His face has just gone into one I have no chance of reading. Damn spies.

 

“Depends, though you sure are worried about it.”

 

“Oh, I can’t imagine whyyyyy. Not after having visions of you explaining the idea of the re-educators to the Herald.” He raises his brow, so I continue. “Sorry, Bull, but I’m really not interested in being given some drug potion that makes it so I stop thinking. I’m going to be frank: I know jack-shit about Par Vollen. What I know about the Qun, Qunari and otherwise comes from someone the Warden, Hawke, or Herald interacted with. So I know the current Arishok, the _former_ Arishok, a Ben-Hassrath elf titled Talis, and you. My visions are connected to the Herald. If I know something, it’s because she will eventually know it too.”

 

I swear; besides blinking, he doesn’t even move for a good thirty seconds. I, on the other hand, use the time to play with my bracelet. I avoid the little dragon tooth charm though. Or would that be more obvious?

 

“Alright, so, what do you know about me?” He gives me an opportunity to vision him up. I smile.

 

“I know you were an adorable brat growing up.” I think that face is ‘unimpressed’. “Young ‘One who thinks’,” I add little air quotes, “Well, that’s the translation of your kiddo name. I can’t pronounce it. You were the helper of your unit, helping your Tama with the other kids. Course, then you liked to lie your way into a better deal. Something about Tama saying you need to eat two more things off your plate. At the time, there was nothing but veggies on the plate, but you had snuck two pieces of meat off earlier. You pulled those out, _staring her down_ , and ate them. You were a little _shit_. I would have whooped your _ass_ for something like that.”

 

Finally, he grins. “I couldn’t run fast enough after that. Tama was always patient, but I was sure I was going to be punished after. Same night she told me her recommendation.”

 

“Bet she’s real proud of you, Bull. I hope you’ve had a chance to write her.” I may have put a little scolding into my tone. His face softens more, though I _should be_ more on my guard… but I’m not. If he’s playing me, I’ll never know anyway.

 

“I get to once in awhile. Too damn busy keeping track of the damn Orlesians.”

 

“I am _not_ looking forward to meeting any of them for an extended period. Just the letters Josephine gets and the ones I pass are enough to make me gag. So, Messere Spy, what is your take on me?”

 

“What do I think of the Inquisition’s Sooth-Sayer? Hmmm,” he scratches at his chin like he’s thinking it over. His eye covers me from head to toe a couple of times before he smiles. “ I think you’re a real seer, that’s for sure.” I may have fluffed my braid while grinning. My attempts at preening get him to smirk again. “You’re damn good with kids, you appeal to others’ natures, and you draw out the need to protect in a lot of them.” I cock my head at the last bit. Were people protective of me? I can see Cullen and Leliana. 

 

“Also the rumors you and Sera have been spreading have been getting me a lot of action. I’ve used up all my lube.”   

 

Alllllll the blood in my body goes straight to my face as I gape at his smirking one. I quickly clap my hands over my burning flesh and squeal. “I don’t need to knoooow thissssss.”

 

“And I thought your Commander got red. Look at you,” Bull is too damn amused-sounding! I whine more and shrink away as he pulls my right hand down to look. “How can I properly thank you for getting me _so_ much-”.

 

“Stop!” I pop both my hands over his mouth, even as he laughs. Yup, his beard is mega scratchy against my palms. Fuck, is steam coming out of my ears?

 

He _kisses_ my palm.

 

“Jesus in heaven, someone help me!!!!” I play swat at his face a few times.

 

“This is going to be fun.” I try my best to fume at his smugness. “Then again, I’m curious  about who you got all these rumors from in your visions.” I try glaring at him, lips screwed up tight. “Ah, come on, you’ve ‘seen’ me before. I’m right here now. What’s it going to be, Seer?”

 

I glare, knowing that I should be wary. He’s a spy, he is going to get me into a false sense of security and try to fish secrets out of me.

 

He makes his eyebrow dance...

 

Did he just… seriously… I’m _done_.

 

“Bull!!!” I launch, partly since I’m still sitting, into a hug with my arms around his neck, making tons of happy whining sounds. Ho-ly shit, is he warm! And rough. And _thick_. Damn, it feels like I’m hugging a leather covered mattress. Meh, don’t care. HUGGGGG THE BULL! I can feel his rumbling laugh as he hugs me back. Omg I am so tiny! “I’m so glad you and the Chargers got here! Have to admit, I was alil worried, with Trevelyan being sooooo Andrastian, and hearing her take on the Qunari in Kirkwall.” I lean back and clap him on the shoulders. “You have so many more Chargers than I saw! Oh, I want to hear all the stories in person! Seriously, all the good stories, and I want the rice dish recipe.”

 

“You know that one, huh?”

 

“Yup. Good cautionary tale to new mercs. Oh, another question: which is the one for the rib to back rib cut?” I look down at his chest...wait… naked… ok bad thoughts, shut up! 

 

“That one? Over here.” He sits back a bit and pointed to his left side. It was the one just under his pectoral, which made sense. Ribs and all.

 

“How did that _not_ hit something vital?” I reach out and, pausing to get his nod of permission, I boop it. “It looks like it should have hit your lung.”

 

“Nicked it actually, but we had plenty of healing potions and poultice on hand. Plus a recent troop exchange got us a good medic. Now, this one,” He takes my hand and sets it a little higher and on the one that is almost dead center over his heart. “This one was closer. Tal-Vashoth with a dagger snuck up from a building we thought was deserted. Took one of my crew out by slashing his throat, before back swinging into me. If it hadn’t been a back-swing, and my arm hadn’t been up, would have died.”

 

I immediately whine and reach forward to hug him again. He allows me, patting my lower back, though I think I feel a smile in my hair. “I’m glad you’re still around, Bull.” I lean back and pat my hand over the mark and his heart. “Though how you survive _half_ the shit I’ve ‘seen’ I don’t get at all.”

 

He laughs a bit, covering my hand with his own again, before moving mine away. “I’m tough.”

 

“I was going to go with badass, but okey dokey.”

 

 He grins at me again, before giving a come hither towards my leg. “Kick up the foot again.” Oh right, my foot is half snapped. I kick it up to his hand, noticing little rivers of melted ice as I do. “Urg, not looking much better. Wish that bald mage was here, Ma’am says she’s not good with healing.”

 

“Oh dear, if only there was a _mage_ amongst your _boys_.” We both grin at each other, but my head cocks as his face goes solemn.

 

“You should be more careful with new people though, Soothy.” His voice gets gravelier… is he… trying to scare me?

 

I blink at him three times before righting my head… and booping him right on the nose. His eyebrow goes up. “Boop the spy,” I say in a rather childlike, high voice. 

 

He throws his head back to laugh this time, scaring the shit out of some birds. “Ah shit. I don’t scare you at all.” He gives me a little bit of a disbelieving face, shaking his head and standing up. “Now how are we going about this?” He muses to himself, I think.

 

“Wait, wait, help me up for a second. I wanna see where I come up to on you. I’ve been _so_ curious.” I reach for him as he ducks down a bit to get his arm around me. I hop with him until we are on an even level and stand as straight as I can. My nose is right at the center of his breastbone, which puts my crown at his collarbone. He’s also got to be about 1.5 times wider than me too. I glomp him again. “I’m so tiny by comparison!” He laughs a little again while patting me.

 

Then he tries picking me up, bridal style.

 

“Nooo, no no nah-ah, no.” I hop back, hissing and damn near falling over as I put pressure on my bad ankle. Only thanks to his grip do I stay up. “I’m too heavy for you to carry, Bull.”

 

“I just held you for five minutes.” Was that his ‘are you kidding me right now’ tone? Think so.

 

“That’s _holding_. This would be _carrying_. You’ll _hurt_ yourself trying. Help me find a stick to make a crutch wi-EEE” I squeal as he picks me up, not as gently as he was trying before. I squeak as he settles me into his arms and against his… very warm, broad… shit. I shrink in on myself a bit in embarrassment and my hands cling to my outer coat. No touching!

 

“I’ll cut you a deal. If I get tired, I’ll set you down for a few minutes. Or carry you on my back.” He starts off down the normal trail.

 

I mouse out a quiet, “K” making him smirk more.

 

Damn, is he warm.

 

Shit, is he built. 

 

Fuck, I might be in trouble. 


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bull tries the direct approach. Reactions ensue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I'm sorry, but this is the last full chapter I have in storage! August will be free of cuteness, as I adjust to my new job and time schedule.
> 
> Now, remember how I started off the month warning y'all to keep notes? There are some things missing or noticed by others in these last chapters that I want to see if anyone notices. Not to worry if no one does. Even my bestest bud HeadPeach didn't notice my biggest drama moment. (P.S. I'm visiting her right now!! EEE friendssss) If no one does, the first post of September will be a certain spy filling in the readers... and filling a Chantry sister. 0.0 ^_^
> 
> Also a headcannon: Fannon has sadly plateaued in terms of weight loss. Hence Cullen and her having started flexibility training in the last few chapters. She's down about 35 pounds after a little over two months of Thedas time.
> 
> Other headcannon: Vitaar is poisonous, yes, until it hardens on the skin. Takes a few hours, but it doesn’t come off easily. Why is this my headcannon? COURSE I LOVE THOSE DAMN PATTERNS IN THE SEX SCENES. I get the mod that makes him wear them all the time when I play.

**_Damn, is he warm._ **

 

**_Shit, is he built._ **

 

**_Fuck, I might be in trouble._ **

  
  


My bodyguards greet the two of us right as we entering the training yard. They have their weapons ready and looking at me for confirmation of my safety. “He’s taking me to get my foot fixed. I’ll be ok.” The guys nod, but Vanril runs off into town. We only get a little further into the grounds when Cullen comes charging over. Bull sets me down, before taking a knee, pointing to his back. It’s weird as hell to climb him, and I apologize a dozen times for having to use his horns to get me up. My palms end up a little roughed up from the grooves and grit. I am just wrapping my legs around his middle, his arms around my upper knees, when Cullen gets to us.

 

“What in Andraste’s name has happened? Did you hurt her?!” The Commander looks ready to try to trounce Bull, even with me still on him. 

 

I make sure my grip around Bull’s shoulders is solid before I lean around his head, mindful of the horns. “No, it’s my damn boot again. Something is going on with either it or my brace.” I grab hold of my pant’s leg around the knee and pull it up, showing off my bruised foot to Cullen… who’s blushing? The hell? Oh, sweet lord, don’t let him have a foot fetish. I don’t _get_ foot fetishes, but that’s me.

 

“Are-are you sure you are… well, Fannon?” Cullen meets my eyes and only does one quick look to Bull.

 

“I will be once Nathaniel gets to look at it.”

 

Bull ‘ha’s quick and looks at me from the corner of his eye. “You call him by his first name?”

 

“Sometimes. I keep slipping and calling him Snitches for some reason.” I mentally giggle; Harry Potter in Thedas.

 

“If you are sure… I was hoping to delay this meeting until the Herald returned.” Cullen laments, and I hm to myself as I watch him. His temple is pulsing; looks like another nasty headache today. Wonder if Nathaniel has gotten my tablets to him.

 

“Me too, I would have made so much _coin_. None of the Chargers bet past a week.” I grin as Bull laughs, hoisting me a little higher, and making me squeak in fear. “I’ll give you a report after I get check out, ok?”

 

“See that you do, Lady Fannon. The Iron Bull,” Cullen nods to both of us, nudging out of Bull’s path. After a bit, Bull starts snickering.

 

“What?” I muse while letting my chin rest on his… horn bridge? It’s not his skull, but that area of horn that’s part of his head.

 

“Flashing the Commander, huh?”

 

I squeal and thump his shoulders. “What do you mean?! I would never do such a thing! My shirt is firmly in place, thank you.”

 

“You pulling up your pants to show off your ankle. You pulled it all the way up to mid calf. For a Chantry Ferelden like your Commander, that’s flashing some goods.” Bull laughs more as I groan in misery. Cullen, I’m so sorry!

 

“Oh sweet Jesus, are Thedas people modest. You know what, you would be perfectly decent in my culture in the warm weather.”

 

“Oh yeah? What about ladies?”

 

“Well, we don’t go shirtless because lord forbid boobs are treated like the saggy, fatty flesh of babe feedings that they _are_ . Oh look, a bare boob, every straight man and lesbian woman in the area must now be aroused!” Bull has to stop us to laugh, and I giggle snort into his head. We calm down and I blow a few hairs out of my face. “But we don’t have to wear three damn layers of shirts to be considered ‘decent’. A nice cotton, short sleeve shirt is considered modest by most and a tank top… uh, a shirt with thinner shoulder straps is still considered decent by most, considering, _again_ , the woman’s bosom size.”

 

“Sounds like my kind of place.” I raspberry before play flicking his horn. “Hey, I call ‘em like I see them.”

 

I snicker as we approach the Charger’s circle of tents, spotting Krem calling to some of the others. Bull and I were gathering some groans, cheers, and rather dirty looks from the crew that knew about Bull’s other job. Still, it’s mostly cat calling and whoops of ‘The Chief got ya, Fannon?’

 

“Kr~em~y, the Chief broke my fo~ot.” I grin as Krem looks first repulsed then unsurprised, opening the flaps of the big tent.

 

“I did not. You sprained it on your own.” Bull shifted me again, making me clench my hands around his neck for a second. My boot and purse, now lodged in my tummy, make a small burp come out. I lean into my shoulder for manners’ sake.

 

“You totally broke my foot, and I’m enlisting Krem to defend my honor and whoop your tush.” I feel Bull rumbling laugh as he ducks down to get inside. I duck my face into his neck and upper back even though I’m in no danger of head thumpage. Dude, I swear I know that smell… but I always remember smelling it after my kin did the lawn...gah, did I just _sniff_ him… twice?!

 

“Need Stitches, Chief?” Krem asks while pulling over a rather tall log of wood. I’m going to call that Bull’s chair.

 

“Yup, she sprained it pretty bad. Need you and Grim to take a look at her brace, too. It’s not doing its job if she can still roll it. Needs refitted thanks to the weight loss. Alright, Fannon, gonna set you down now.”

 

I still stiffen up as he drops my left leg down slowly. Good lord, he’s friggin _tall_. He doesn’t flinch as I half slide down his back to plant my left foot on the ground, still leaning on him to keep my right foot up. I hop around to his front, heading for the chair… only for him to sit on it instead.

 

“He-EEYY!” He grabs me back around the waist and plops me on his right knee/thigh.

 

Blink… blink blink?!

 

“Wwwwhyyyyyy am I sitting in your lap, exactly?” I am stiff, hands clasped together in my own lap. Bull gives my lower back a pat before slinging his arm around my waist and holding on to my opposite hip. Good lord, is he warm! I am starting to feel the need to get my overcoat off.

 

“Easier for Stitches to work if you’re higher up.” He partially rests his chin on my crown as the main 6, hehehe, move to join us. And not a single one was surprised to see me in Bull’s lap. “Toss Krem your boot, Soothy.”  

 

“Ok, that is sooooo _not_ going to _stay_ my Charger’s nickname. Use it for now but keep trying, Bull.” I huff and hand my boot over to Krem just as Stitches kneels down. I kick my leg up and the dark man catches it at the calf. “I promise I washed my feet this morning, Nathaniel.”

 

The doctor smiles a little as he runs his fingers gently down from mid calf, testing just how far up and down my pain went. “Not a worry, Lady Fannon. This isn’t going to be pleasant though, for you I mean.”

 

Ughhh, I hated that title, but I was under orders to no longer refuse it, especially to _gossipers_ like the Chargers. Krem and Grim were looking over my brace, edging off to the far side of the tent.

 

“Hm. Visions?”

 

“No. Try again.” I roll my eyes, hissing as Stitches squeezes in a few areas.

 

“Fortune Teller?”

 

“Oh sweet baby Jesus, NO!” Stitches opens a large leather bag and pulls out some long bandages onto his knee and looks between three jars.

 

“Fanny?”

 

“ _Hell_ the fuck no! You try that shit, and you can just bite me!” I flip him off with my left hand, hoping I’ve raised it to his eye lev-

 

A set of teeth nip down on my... finger…

 

“FUCKING ASSHOLE! YOU BIT ME!” cue much flailing on my part, and laughter from the crew. I don’t know what I’m doing. I try to hit him, I try to stand up, and I try looking at my finger at the same time. Bull snaps his arm tighter around my waist and Stitches grabs on to my leg just below the knee.

 

After a bit of stunned disbelief and temper, I finally look at my finger. It doesn’t hurt, but Jesus, he bit me! Hell, “You left an indent!” There is one small tooth pinch in the pad of my finger.

 

“You did say bite you.” He’s smirking!

 

“You son of a-”

 

“Lady Fannon, please. _After_ we take care of your foot. _Chief_...” Bull grunts in agreement to … I guess not fuck with an injured person. I glare at my finger and grumble though.

 

Stitches gets me all wrapped up and into a splint like shoe, but I’m going to need an arm to lean on for most of the day. My brace and boot will also be in Grim’s hands for awhile, so I get extra warm wrappings. Damn do I miss Solas and his healing. 

 

Skinner, the winner of the bet by a bell, comes in holding an oddly large coin purse.

 

“Ah, you _were_ in on the bet, Fannon.” Bull asks as I borrow his larger hand to hold onto the counted-out coin. This also gives me a good reason to look at his left hand. His fourth and pinkie finger were even, with his pinkie missing his nail bed and the fourth taken to a bit above his second knuckle.

 

“Kinda? I asked for 5% of total bets unless none of the others won. Then I’d get the whole pot … dude, is that 50?!” I move to scoop the silvers back up to check again.

 

“Yup, I counted the same.” I open the cloth bag up wide so he can turn his hand over. I blop the coins into my purse properly real quick before looking back, and up, into that ‘laughing’ eye.

 

“Hooooow do your men have 10 fucking Sovereigns to waste? Wait… do I want to know how expensive you guys are?” I catch his eye twinkling, so I raspberry him.

 

At that, his face changed into his smug-no that wasn’t… I don’t know why but my face is heating up as he looks at-why is he leaning so close? And I’m being squeezed rather-

 

“Now that I’ve got you all to myself, how about you and I have some _fun_ with that tongue of yours?” Was that a growl he spoke with?...Waaaait

 

He couldn’t have

 

That sounded like

 

That’s… SO hot and wrong and

 

“NO! Nonononononon-MHMMMMMMMMMM!” Myfaceneckchest burning. Can’t think, only whine, I don’t. _Panic, run, hide! Strange! New! Can’t be right._

 

“Hey, hey hey! Easy!” I am trying to get off his lap. He half stands to… keep a hold of me. My legs kick out as my hands clamp down over my ears. “You’re safe!” He squishes me into him tighter, both arms to hold me, palms either rubbing my arm or my back. “Takes some breaths, Fannon! Nothing is happening. I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice sounds ernest even as he lowers his volume.

 

No, Bull doesn’t hurt anyone unless they’re a baddie. Why is he flirt-was that a flirt?! “Mhmmm-mm-mm.” I lean in toward my knees more. I’m so confused! Racing thoughts, can’t follow them, bits of words in my head, trying to make sense. _Krem, how’d we do?...Then break out the casks...You’re Tevinter, right? Try blood magic._ _Oh, great. New game, new characters and I already like the funny asshole._

 

“You’re alright. Shuuuush.” I’m still kicking out, eyes clenched to not look at the man, trying to hunch into myself tighter. “Just take some breaths, and talk to me when you can. You’re thinking awful hard about something.” I feel his muscles bunch and maybe even strain as I try to use his other leg to squirm away. _Get away from the embarrassment. Shame and embarrassment, all the time._ He pulls me up more, pushing my face into his neck. Giving me a place to hide. “Let me know when you’ve got it.” He’s rubbing down my back as I shake and squeezing me. I feel... supported, not trapped.

 

Ok, catch the thoughts and put them in order. Catch, Catch- Yes, that definitely _sounded_ like a version of flirting that I offered up during the last table meeting. Holy shit, was that face he pulled hot. Like he was going to eat me-NO! Don’t go that route, brain! 

 

This is the _worst time_ and _worst way_ to realize that my crush on Bull has _definitely_ followed me into Thedas.

 

Ok, so my kind of flirting, from Bull: he’s teasing. He used my own words, to a degree, against me to tease the shit out of me. He has _no_ actual interest in my fat ass for sex. Got Trevelyan and Dori for that. I’m not of Thedas. I can’t even _pretend_ to be in their ball park. Pair with Herald or Dorian or no one; that’s what happens. That’s what’s natural. Ok, _calming_ down.

 

“There you are. Almost back?” His voice is that calm candance that I like as I start coming down from my panic/meltdown/ whatever you wanna call it high. Shit, I am royally shaking in his arms. He adjusts his hands now, one moving back up to hold my cheek, keeping me tight to his neck. He rests his head, chin it feels like, against my temple. Bits of my hair are sticking to the rough parts of his horn.

 

I nod as more thoughts jump on each other. Bull was worried I was scared of him. No, I can’t be scared of Bull. He’d never hurt someone, bedroom wise, without their permission.

 

“Not scared you’ll hurt me.” I mumble urgently into his neck. It feels like the most important thing to say in this conversation. I need him to know I’m not scared of him. Ever.

 

“Good. Wouldn’t do that, in or out of bed.” For a split second, I think I feel him relax, but he shifts me; face still in his neck, but looser around the waist. “Feel bad for you spraining your ankle. Can you come out of my neck, or you better there?”

 

I can’t really answer that, since I’m more comfortable not facing him. Not facing him or facing him, either way, I’m going to be embarrassed as fuck. I try to swallow down another wave of whining.

 

“You’re better there. Alright. Keep talking when you can.” Holy crap, being hugged by Bull is… fucking amazing.

 

God, I just want to stay _right_ here… which is very much not a good idea to have.

 

“Why did you.. that both flirting and propositioning?” I roll my head some, talking more towards his collarbone.

 

“What I just did, yeah, both.” He huffs his response. It didn’t really sound like a laugh, but I can’t crasp what the sound is for. I feel him trying to adjust his leg. I have _no_ interest in him feeling uncomfortable so I wiggle off him. For a second, it feels like he’s going to keep me on his lap, but he lets me stand. He keeps his hands at my elbows, so I don’t have to put much weight on my bad foot yet. I stare at his left shoulder, seeing his eye scan me over from the edge of my vision.

 

“Why? Dude, there’re many ways to tease, don’t involve giving heart attack.” Fuck, I’m _still_ red, and my thoughts are still spinning, _and I can’t flipping form sentences_ ! I cover my face, mostly my eyes and forehead, to try to get my head under control. “ _Jesús_ of mercy; there’re others you’re supposed flirt with.” That remark gets me a very slow rise of an eyebrow.

 

“Figured it might be the reason you contacted me directly, Soothy.” I hear him adjusting bits of himself, even the log. I jump a bit as he nudges/pulls me slightly, back to his lap. I go along with it because damn, is he a good hugger.

 

“Nooooo, no no no. You… you do you, Bull, but sex isn’t happening. For me. EEEEVVVERRRRR.”

 

“Damn, and I joked about the Commander going red.” Fucker is laughing so I shove at his shoulder with one hand. My other scrunches up in my overcoat. “Why not? I mean not with me, but no sex in general for you?”

 

I growl and chomp into the meat of my hand, weaving on his lap to try to calm down enough to explain things right. Damn, is he patient; most people would keep up the questions by now. He lets me sort myself out first.

 

“I need a special somebody. I mean, I’m not even sure I can...Arggg.”

 

“Hey, no rush. I’m good; got a cute little Soothy to cuddle and squeeze.” He squishes my waist just to prove the point. I immediately bat at him.

 

“Quit quit quit! Stop with the teasing. Not cute. Ok, so I have never had anyone flirt with me. I don’t flirt. No one is interested in me that way. It’s weird!”

 

“Alright, think I’ve got it. No one has ever propositioned you for sex or your human _court_ ship.” Nod from me. “Since it’s never happened before, you’re confused, scared, and disbelieving that it’s happened, even as a tease.” Nod! “And if you did want to try it, in the future, you’d need the courtship first.” Triple nod. “Alright then, so why _did_ you send me a letter? You didn’t do it with Ma’am, or Sera, and they were in Val Royeaux. Easier to track.”

 

Hm...why did I send a message to Bull only… Well, besides the actual and completely embarrassing reason of ‘I have a crush’. Sighing, and shrugging, I finally make eye contact again. His face is impervious though. “I liked you and wanted to be your friend?” Nope, eyes back down; can’t watch his face. I expect it to be a mass of ‘WTF is wrong with this woman’ and ‘dumb woman falls for the spy’. “I mean, now that I’ve said it outloud, probably won’t work that way. You’re a spy, one of the best the Qun has. You know how to act and change to get everyone on your side. What I’ve _seen_ of you is most likely an act… and I fell for it...blughhhh. How much of the personality you show is real?... Crap I’m an idiot.” I smack my face with both hands and move to hop off him again. Now is not a time for cuddles. Now is the time to _avoid_.

 

He stands with me, hand between my shoulders. “I’ll give you points for that. Most people see what they want without thinking about it.”

 

I chew on my thumb some more, before sighing again and looking up at him. He’s wearing a… ‘patient teacher to confused student’ face. “Bull, I know you can play people. And I promise you, you _can_ play me, _easily_. But I hope you might feel comfortable enough, in the future, that I won’t… grrr, sentence forming is difficult… I hope you can let your natural personality out some day.”

 

He’s quiet, scanning me slowly as we stand together. I keep my eyes up to his, though I really want to lower them, so he can understand how heartfelt I am. Eyes window to the soul and all. After a bit, he gives a little half grin and pats me. “Let's get you back to Cullen, before he tries to kill me. Slow steps, Soothy.”

 

Sighhhh, I’m going to take that as a nice ‘Spy will stay spy’ as I shuffle toward the outside of the tent.

 

“Excuse me, I was hoping to have a word with the Charger’s healer or your captain. Is either in at the moment?” Wait a minute...My hand goes back to stop Bull. I look back, noticing he’s looking at me mildly confused but very curious. I lift the tent flap, juuust enough to peek...yup. That’s a Chantry sister. Gretchen? I think is her name. She’s standing at the Chargers’ main fire. It’s the voice though; I _know_ that voice. I snort for a second, covering my mouth quick and lowering the flap.

 

“Youuuu, ain’t goin’ anywhere, Chief.”

 

“Oh?” He crosses his arms and leans down a bit, but smirking all the while. Looking playfully smug; keeping me at ease. “Why’s that?”

 

I blush a bit as I point at the flap. “You were wonderin’ _who_ got the rumors about you started in my visions? She’s rite ou’side.”

 

He snaps his face between me, trying to hold my giggles, and the flap. He lifts up his hand to scratch under his chin, before a more sinister smirk pulls at the scarred corner. “Alright, I’ll stay here, _see_ what she wants. Grab one of my boys and have them escort you around. I’ll check on you later.”

 

“Pssst. See you _tomorrow_ , Bull.” I wave behind me as I step out of the tent. Krem has pointed the sister to the big tent and she passes me while I move over to one of my fav Vints. He looks confused of all my blushing and my attempts at repressing my giggles. I hobble over completely and squish him. “Brother from other mother! I missed you!”

 

“I’m glad to see you’re able to visit us again, Lady Fannon.” He grins as I grr face at him. He helps me sit down next to him and shows me my brace. “We’ll have to measure you again when your foot is no longer swollen, but you should have it ready by evening.”

 

“Thank you Krem, and Grim.” I wave to the other side of the fire as the quiet man is shining up my boot… just as a large arm thumps my head.

 

“Looks like our little lady gets to play with us again. Already had your fun with Chief, ai?” Marcus. Freakin’ not subtle at all Mockingjay. I smack the arm that is still laying on my head, which he removes with a chuckle.

 

“How many times do I have to tell y’all? I’m not interested in Chief like that.”

 

“Right, Maiden of the ‘Quisition and all that. Then why did you run from him? Or wear that pretty little dress we got ya?” Marcus plops down on my other side, making a point to look at my busted foot. “If the Chief didn’t enjoy it, I bet I know a few others that will.” Dawww, he’s a sweetie sometimes, trying to boost my ego.

 

“Hey! It was a very nicely made dress! I’m totally keeping it. Though, seriously how did you guys get my new measurements?” I look to Krem for this one.

 

“Skinner. She’s playing with one of the seamstresses right now. Got your measurement the same day they were taken.”

 

I was just about to ask why they made it for me anyway, when a very loud… male sound of pleasure came out of the tent. And cue me going a million shades red and clamping my hands over my ears. “Ok, that’s loud! Kremy, please escort me to the Commander. _Pleaseeeee!_ ” Marcus is laughing his ass off, but he still helps Kerm stand me up for the Vint to escort me to safety.

  
  



	27. Pictureeee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [](https://drive.google.com/file/d/1psL0IMNyFdNcLgiRn1NDRVp8nbh1ZssY/view?usp=sharing&usp=embed_facebook&source=ctrlq.org)

Yup that's me... in pre Fallout 76... fearrrrrr meeeee and my squish... also, I bite my lip when I'm concentrating... also sometimes stick out my tongue too.


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